Fate, Shattered
by GaleSynch
Summary: Harry Potter befriended Librana Black who also happened to be his parents' killer—Sirius Black's child. Harry wished he could've picked less-headache-inducing friends, it didn't help that his heart went mad whenever his friend was near. Eventual HarryxOC
1. Chapter 1

**Fate, Shattered**

**Prologue**

The baby was crying.

Regulus Black frowned, shifting the bundle in his arms so that she'd be more comfortable, to stop his daughter from crying. He cast a shifty glance behind his back. He tried to hush the infant because her cries were getting unbearable, what if someone heard them? Regulus would die before he could accomplish his mission. And that would be a shame.

He was starting to have doubts about this mission. He'd brought his daughter because—no matter how vain the hope was—he hoped she'd know what he'd die trying to do: to create a better world for her to live in even though she might not remember this night in the Crystal Cave at all. A life without terror, without the expectations of everyone on her shoulder; a world where Regulus wish he could live in.

Beside him, rowing the boat, Kreacher whimpered, casting fearful glances at him, the baby and their surroundings.

Regulus could understand his horror. He didn't fancy looking down, especially at the dead bodies. Regulus was so lost in thought that it wasn't until Kreacher croaked his name fearfully did he realize that they'd reach the other end of the shore. Near the basin. It was exactly as Kreacher has described it to be.

His grip on his daughter tightened as he clambered out of the boat. She was silent now, but her grey eyes were wide and alert, as if she knew the importance of what he was planning to do.

Regulus glanced into the basin, saw the locket there and withdrew his own locket. No one would know the difference. Not even the Dark Lord unless he decided to come down and check this place and study the locket in detail. Hopefully, his daughter and great-aunt Cassiopeia (who'd reluctantly agreed to help him) would be out of the country by then.

He placed the baby carefully on the ground; she shot him a deep look of disgust at being settled down on rocky grounds but she didn't complain. Yet. He patted her head before turning to Kreacher who was trembling in fear.

_He thinks I'm going to make him go through it all again_, Regulus thought, realizing the source of Kreacher's terror. "Kreacher, here's what I want you to do..."

Despite knowing what he was going to do, Kreacher's fear didn't seem to have been alleviated at all. The house-elf begged him not to do it and Regulus whole-heartedly agreed, he didn't want to do it; his daughter's whine of discomfort steeled his resolve, however, and he took the first sip.

And second. Third. Fourth. He lost count.

"Give... her... the locket..." murmured Regulus, barely able to force the words out through his parched throat. It hurts. Everything hurt so bad, he wanted to die, yet... a part of him screamed for him to crawl to the water, drink and live.

His daughter sniffled and cried when Kreacher forcefully loop the locket around her neck. _Good,_ he thought. "Kreacher...?"

"Y-yes, Master?"

"Take... Librana... and go," he moaned, breathing raggedly.

"But—"

"_Leave!_"

_I tried. I really did. But I guess my best wasn't enough. I'm sorry... Librana, Sirius... I just wanted a world where we could be together. I guess it's just too much to ask for._

**oOo**

At sixty-five, Cassiopeia Black thought she was past all sort of worries. She had no husband, children—she was barren—nor did she have foster children. She wasn't close to her nieces and nephews and certainly not her grand-nephews or grand-nieces. So there was simply no words to describe how shocked she was when her young grand-nephew came to her door, asking for help. Begging sounded more accurate but she knew he was too prideful to admit that.

Hard to imagine, hard to believe that the young twenty-year-old man-boy was now dead.

Cassiopeia glanced at her great-grand-niece who was silent, twisting and turning in her crib; she was not asleep, her grey eyes—the same shade as her father's and Cassiopeia's own—were wide and curious, taking in her new surroundings.

Cassiopeia sighed when 12-month-old Librana Black turned her eyes to her.

And for the first time in many years, she took her wand, raised it and started casting the necessary Protective Charms. If she was to fulfill her grand-nephew's wishes, she might as well do it properly and start protecting his daughter from the Dark Lord and his army who'd probably be out for Black blood when they realized what he'd done.

Why can't she ever lead a peaceful life in solitude?

Cassiopeia, in comparison to the rest of her pureblood fanatic family, was very mild. She was beautiful, yes, but not to the extent of her sisters or mother or cousins. She wasn't arrogant, rather, she was quiet but never evil or vain. She thought that would give her a chance at living a relatively healthy and peaceful life.

**oOo**

Seven-year-old Librana Black pulled her cap over her face, trying to cover herself up. She didn't know why the old hag always told her to cover her eyes and face (if possible) up most of the time. Probably had something to do with their numerous enemies.

Librana thought her aunt (great-grandaunt was a mouthful) was being ridiculous (as usual). The old hag was damn paranoid but Librana never questioned her much. This was the first thing she learned in life: Aunt is the best, don't you ever doubt her. That didn't mean Librana was very happy about it.

However, if Librana wanted to wander out of the house (which was not visible to Muggles or anyone really), she'd need to obey her aunt and keep herself as inconspicuous as possible. Librana thought that a black t-shirt and overalls would be inconspicuous enough.

Librana threw her hands overhead, inhaling the fresh air that was _not_ the musky scent of their dark home. The sun shone and burned the back of her neck and she decided to move. Librana's alabaster skin was very, very sensitive to sunlight she preferred to go out when it was a cloudy or rainy day but since her aunt only allowed her to go out on sunny days ("What if you fall sick?")...

Librana would need to sneak out to play in the rain. Fortunately, she was very stealthy (and her aunt was growing steadily deafer) and could sneak back in without getting time-out.

Librana had a very bad habit of fiddling with her cap and she didn't even realize she was doing it until she tripped and fell. When your sight is blocked by your hands, it usually happens. Nothing serious. She pushed herself to her knees, adjusting her leather gloves. After multiple repeated falls like these, her aunt Cassiopeia had forced her to wear gloves wherever she went to stop herself from scarring her palms any further. This was just a testimony of how smart her aunt was. Along with making Librana wear long-sleeved pants and shirts, also to stop herself from scarring her body.

Librana adjusted her cap, made sure that her hands were kept firmly in her pocket, before she started her casual stroll around the park.

Don't wander too far, her aunt had said.

Did Librana listen?

Hm. Maybe once her body was decaying in her grave? She wouldn't be moving far _then_.

It had to be an hour or two when Librana finally stopped jumping and running around like a monkey. She had caught people staring oddly at her and removing their children from her path—real subtle, those Muggles, they obviously thought that there was something wrong with her. With a sigh, Librana whipped her cap off and started fanning herself with it. Her shirt was plastered to her back and she was thirsting for a cup of pumpkin juice.

She crouched, resting her head in her hand and brooded.

Going back now would mean doing chores for Aunt Cassiopeia. And getting nothing but criticism for her job _terribly_ done. Oh, come on, it wasn't Librana's fault she couldn't pay attention! Her aunt was sadistic—tempting the young girl with interesting horror movies that she knew Librana was dying to watch—watching a movie with the volume at full blast while Librana was scrubbing the floor.

Staying here meant being fried like a fish. Librana scratched the spot at the back of her neck, she knew that patch of skin was completely red now. Soon, her whole body would be as red as a lobster. Which wouldn't do, that meant discomfit the whole day. Librana's skin was just that sensitive.

So, chores it is then. With a heavy sigh, Librana pushed herself to her feet, turning on her heels and starting down back where she came from.

She passed the park when something gently brushed her cheek. She stopped, turning in interest. She had always been too curious for her own good, her aunt said. Librana pushed her sweat-slicked black hair back, shoved her cap on and looked at the source of the gentle touch.

A path of blooming dandelions. Grinning, Librana leaped over the barrier and ran toward it. Maybe her aunt would like it? Aunt Cassiopeia always did love looking at the sky—she always gave Librana the impression that she wanted to fly like the birds that constantly soared overhead.

Without caring about getting her hands dirtied (she had her gloves on), Librana crouched and started ripping the dandelions off the small patch. So absorbed was she into choosing the biggest and fluffiest dandelion for her aunt, she did not realize someone coming up behind her until someone tapped her shoulder.

Stiffening, she turned, getting a face full of knobbly knees before she remembered to look upward to see someone's face. His messy black hair could've given her messy hair a run for her money, his brilliant green eyes were framed by round-moon glasses. "Do you mind?" she said, turning back to the dandelion patch.

"It's illegal," the boy said softly.

"So what? I don't _care._ They can't stop _me_, you can't either!"

"I know," muttered the boy. "I'm not very strong anyway."

Librana finally stood, realizing that she was taller than the green-eyed boy and grinned. Wow. She was so tall. Awesome. She didn't have many kids her age to compare herself with, having lived with her aunt who home-schooled her and taught her everything she should know.

It took Librana three seconds to realize the boy wasn't as happy as she was feeling. Librana's smile slid off her face; she didn't understand, didn't aunt Cassiopeia said that people always smile back when you smile at them? Librana bristled. This boy was very rude then.

"Why the long face?" She pinched his cheek and pulled, eliciting a pained yelp.

"Hey! Let me go!" She did, but she was smirking now at his disgruntled expression. He scowled at her, which did nothing to make him pleasant. "Are you crazy? I didn't even do anything to you!"

"You haven't answered _my_ question."

"I'm not smiling because—" The boy spluttered. "Well, because there's absolutely nothing to be happy about!"

Librana fell silent. She had never heard that people were unhappy before. But this was excusable as Librana had only her aunt Cassiopeia for company and the people she passed by _always_ looked happy. Sometimes, after a fresh argument with her aunt, Librana would run away from home with her temper running and she'd be irked by how happy everyone was. She supposed this boy was feeling the same as she did.

Wow. He really was gloomy and he was putting a dampen of Librana's move.

Without thinking, she handed a dandelion shoot to the boy. "Make a wish then blow on the dandelion, and it'd come true, then you'll be happy," Librana said. She was bullshitting. She had only heard of people wishing on birthday cakes and even then, she had not gotten her wish. But that might be because Aunt Cassiopeia—being the stingy woman she was—only gave her a muffin or a really, really small cake or when she decided to bake a cake for Librana herself, it tasted _and_ looked like crap.

The boy eyed her doubtfully, as if he knew that she was making it up, but he took the dandelion gingerly, gazing at it. Then he closed his eyes and after a few seconds, he blew the seeds away. A few brushed her cheek but eventually breezed past her.

"Wanna chase it?"

The boy frowned. "But then, how's my wish going to come true?"

"Oh, come on," Librana huffed, running after and jumping upward to catch the fleeing seed. "You're so boring, what's a little chase going to do?"

The boy hesitated but he did trail after Librana and after seeing her pathetic attempts which ended with blossoming bruises, he finally decided to chase after it too.

And the boy was bloody fast.

Librana was wheezing as she struggled to catch up to him; she'd lost sight of him but if she kept running, she was sure she'd be able to see the back of his messy head. She panted, resting in a crouch; just as she adjusted her cap, a familiar voice called out to her.

"Librana Walburga Black!"

With a groan and a face-palm, the small child turned to see her great-grandaunt stalking up to her. "You are _way_ past curfew!" Aunt Cassiopeia snatched her arm, already pulling the squirming and protesting child away from where she was crouched. "We are going home."

"I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye!"

If possible, it infuriated Aunt Cassiopeia even further. "I told you not to talk to anyone!"

"He's a kid my age! I finally have a friend, why do you have to—"

"It's for your safety, Librana," said Aunt Cassiopeia tersely; her grip on Librana was unforgiving. "Come now, run along, we don't want to waste your father's sacrifice so thoughtlessly, do you?"

With a mournful look behind her back, Librana allowed herself to be dragged away. She didn't get a chance to say goodbye to the boy again and she never seen him since even though she suspected he lived nearby. The next day, Aunt Cassiopeia led her to the Muggle airport—they were going to board an airplane and head to France!

Isn't it exciting?

Life was good to Librana Black. For a few years, at least.

**oOo**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the above.**

**Author's Note; **I find my other Black OC story to be unsatisfactory so I started this. I had yet to decide whether she should have memories of the future or she'd just be an OC. What do you think?


	2. Chapter 2

**Fate, Shattered**

**Chapter 1:  
**_To Diagon Alley_

A whoop of joy resounded around the spacious condominium.

Cassiopeia sighed, knowing that her peaceful sleep would be interrupted soon enough. Five, she silently counted down, four, three—

"Oi, old lady!"

Sooner than usual. With an irritated sigh, Cassiopeia sat up, with some difficulty though the brat she'd raised for ten whole years didn't seem to notice and was still bouncing around Cassiopeia's room, shouting with joy (or maybe she was just trying to annoy Cassiopeia, which was very likely). She scowled. "Librana," she snapped. "Get over here and help me."

"I'mgoingtoHogwartsI'mgoingtoHogwarts—"

"Yes, child!" snarled Cassiopeia, losing all sort of patience. "And if you don't get over here and help me sit up, I'd revoke that right!" The threat worked and the eleven-year-old finally stopped prancing around the room, skipping to Cassiopeia's side, roughly wrenching her into an upright position. Cassiopeia winced. She was a failure as a guardian; despite her best, Librana had turned out to be very tomboyish, clumsy, ditsy and useless in most situation unless you wanted to create chaos or you wanted someone to help you lift something heavy.

Cassiopeia secretly suspected that it might have something to do with the silence of their home. Perhaps Librana caused so much commotion because she wanted to fill up the silence in the house. Not for the first time, Cassiopeia found herself empathizing with every mother-slash-guardian in the world, no doubt they had to deal with a child like Librana. And for parents whose children were obedient, she envied them.

"Diagon Alley!" squealed Librana, knocking Cassiopeia's favorite vase off its perch; she didn't even notice the shattered pieces. Muttering curses under her breath, Cassiopeia drew her wand (which she always kept beneath her pillow to keep Librana from stealing it again) and repaired the vase. "I'm going to get a wand like yours! Hurry! Up!" And she proceeded to pull the covers of Cassiopeia. "Come on," she wheedled.

"Out! Now!"

"Aw—"

"OUT!"

The door slammed shut but it didn't completely block out Librana's incessantly cheerful humming.

Sighing heavily and cursing Regulus Black wherever he was now, Cassiopeia dragged herself out of bed. She glanced at the clock stating that it was still eight in the morning. Oh, how horrible. The day hadn't even fully started and she was already wishing for it to end.

**oOo**

"Who cares about books?" Librana demanded, chucking a copy of _Unfogging The Future_ away. She was sighing heavily, leaning against a bookshelf and making a menace of herself as much as possible. Cassiopeia clucked her tongue disapprovingly, grabbed her arm and righted the young girl. She wouldn't put it past Librana to cause the bookshelves to topple (it wouldn't be the first time anyhow). "I want my wand," she said for the nth time.

"If you'd stop being a brat and help me pick your books," said Cassiopeia evenly. "then we'd be able to hurry."

Librana huffed an irritated sigh, blowing her long fringe out of her eyes. Honestly? Her resemblance to her father was uncanny and it crept Cassiopeia out slightly, especially when Librana was ill and she'd wake Cassiopeia with unnerving silence that made the old woman think she was seeing a dead man in her room. Librana's hair was glossy black and flat though Librana insisted she kept it short, it was as short as any boy's. Her grey eyes were the exact shade and shape as her father's but the gleam in those stormy eyes were reminiscence of her uncle Sirius who was now serving a life-sentence in Azkaban.

Librana, of course, did not need to know that teeny, tinny fact. Ignorance was bliss, they say. Sometimes, Cassiopeia wondered if Librana was too ignorant, the only possible explanation as to why she was always so happy-go-lucky.

Librana finally aided Cassiopeia, piling book upon book and slamming it onto the counter. Instinctively, Cassiopeia adjusted the cap on Librana's head of black hair so that it'd hide her face better.

Only a blind idiot could mistake her as a random child. Her eyes, that shade of grey was a trait exclusive only to those of Black blood, would give her away in a second.

Librana batted her hand away irritably. "Come on," she wheedled the shopkeeper who seemed amused at the young girl's enthusiasm.

"Muggle-born?" The shopkeeper inquired cheerfully. "Starting your first-year, I assume?"

Cassiopeia gritted her teeth. It was for Librana's safety, she knew, but she still felt like slapping herself for allowing Librana to dress in Muggle clothes—she was shaming their bloodline. Much to her displeasure, Librana had developed a love for Muggle clothes as well, choosing to wear a t-shirt under overalls and sneakers regardless of the season and weather.

"What?" cried Librana, apparently insulted as well. "I'm tall enough to be mistaken as a third-year, thank you very much! Is that a jab at my height, mister, 'coz you're not that tall—"

Cassiopeia slapped the required amount of Galleons on the counter, silencing Librana with a nudge to her ribs which earned her a filthy look. "Let's go," she said irritably.

Librana gathered her books, shoved it into her backpack and trotted after Cassiopeia (who had to reach out and catch her when she stubbed her toe against the door-frame). "Librana," she said sternly to catch the young girl's attention. "How many times must I tell you? Do not let others mistake you as a Mudblood."

Her great-grandniece looked up at her, adjusting her cap to allow Cassiopeia a sign of her grey eyes which were sparkling with mirth. "OK," she said sweetly. But Cassiopeia wasn't sure Librana had took her words to heart. The girl had the tendency to let words enter her right ear and flow out her left ear. "But Aunt Cassiopeia?"

"Hm?"

"I thought we're trying to lay low," said Librana, blinking curious eyes up at her; her smile was still lighting her face. Cassiopeia noted that her great-grandniece was always smiling. As if she found the whole world amusing for some reason. She'd never understand why. What was there to be so happy about? The girl's life was rather unfortunate. A mother who died, a father who died as well. She had no friends and she only had a grumpy relative to deal with her.

A sliver of guilt pierced Cassiopeia. Whenever she reflected on certain days, she'd feel regret that she had never treated Librana properly. When the girl made a mistake, she was always reprimanded harshly and Cassiopeia had never bothered to lower her volume when she complained about how annoying the girl was.

Cassiopeia's pride always got in the way whenever she wanted to apologize to wipe the dejected look on Librana's face. She always comfort herself by saying that she needn't worry about the girl's feelings since the next day, Librana had already bounced back to her happy-go-lucky attitude.

Cassiopeia knew the girl was forgetful so she wouldn't put it past the ditsy girl to forget that she'd been yelled at mere hours ago. For that sort of attitude, Cassiopeia was grateful. Regulus was never like that, as far as she knew, perhaps she got her personality from her mother?

Cassiopeia didn't know. But then again, she didn't know much about Regulus either.

"Yes," Cassiopeia finally said, realizing that she had drifted into her own world again and Librana was poking her hard in the ribs. "We're trying to keep you safe."

"But the letter said _Ms. Black_ so they already know."

"So?"

"I'd be known."

Cassiopeia smirked. "Voldemort is gone for now, the Death Eaters wouldn't come after you once you're known to the world. They wouldn't risk their current lives to kill the daughter of a former traitor when they just barely managed to escape a life-sentence in Azkaban."

Librana fiddled with her cap, which made Cassiopeia's brow twitch in reflexive annoyance. "But what about the fanatics? Those who're really loyal to Voldemort?" Librana knew that the rest of the Wizarding World was scared of the name, but her aunt never showed any sort of fear so she didn't either. It was just a freaking name! If she said the name and he suddenly appear, only then she'd be scared shitless.

"All in Azkaban," said Cassiopeia in clipped tones. "They were so loyal to Voldemort they were willing to spend their time in Azkaban for him."

Librana stopped fiddling with her cap when she nearly ran face-first into a wagon of goodies. "A few of our family are in there, right?"

Cassiopeia nodded. "Your uncle Sirius and your first cousin once removed Bellatrix."

Librana frowned in confusion. "Why were they so loyal to Voldemort?"

Cassiopeia shrugged, clamping a hand on Librana's shoulder and dragging her out of the way when she nearly ran face-first into the brick-wall. "For the sake of a new world. Personally, Sirius never struck me as a pureblood fanatic. Imagine my surprise when he was sent to Azkaban."

Librana's frown dropped as quickly as it'd appeared. She was back to smiling. Cassiopeia was about to ask what was so pleasant about knowing your uncle was in Azkaban when Librana shot ahead. "My wand, here I come!"

"Librana!" cried Cassiopeia, hurrying after her impulsive great-grandniece.

Librana shoved a kid out of the way, ignoring his cry of outrage and turned her head to stick her tongue out at him when she ran smack-dab into someone. Judging from the size of the breast, the person was a woman. Librana's face managed to test out the texture of the cloth for a split second before she pulled away. She didn't need to look at the aristocratic features to know she was facing a pureblood noble.

Librana glanced up at the woman, taking in her cold grey eyes and her dual colored hair (black and blonde, an odd but beautiful combination in Librana's opinion), and thought she looked very familiar. If she hadn't known better, she would've said they had the same eyes, except of course, Librana's eyes were prettier than hers.

"Sorry," said Librana with an impish grin, tilting her cap up in a salute before wrenching it down and darting toward Ollivanders, missing the look of utter shock on Narcissa Malfoy's face.

Cassiopeia, who had witnessed this scene from behind, had not missed the look and she hissed. Cassiopeia turned, making sure the black, translucent veil covered her face properly before she hurried to Ollivanders.

"Librana!" she snapped the moment she saw the girl twirling around the room. She didn't see old man Ollivanders anywhere and she assumed he had left to find Librana a new wand. "Did you know who you ran into, just now?"

Librana looked confused. "No," she said.

"Your father's cousin," said Cassiopeia stiffly.

Librana didn't seem to understand. "So?" she asked. "I thought my existence is going public, anyway."

She was right, Cassiopeia thought. But when she saw Narcissa and Librana together? All she could think was that Narcissa, who was closer in relation to Librana and was a mother herself, would have more right to Librana than she did to the young girl. She wondered why she felt so uncomfortable at the thought of handing guardianship of the girl to someone else. Must be because she personally promised Regulus. Had to be. She tried not to think of other possibilities.

To change the subject, she asked, "Where is Ollivanders?" Even though she knew full well he was somewhere in the back of the shop. She could remember entering his shop for her wand as if it had happened yesterday. Of course, the illusion that she was a young eleven-year-old again never lasted. Not when her back hurt slightly with every movement.

"There, he's here!" Librana said excitedly, and out of habit, pulled her cap over her eyes. "What do you have for me?" Her enthusiasm seemed to be shared with Ollivanders.

"Excitable young man, isn't he?" chuckled Ollivanders as he handed the wand to Librana who accepted it with unusual tenderness. Cassiopeia snorted softly but didn't bother correcting Ollivanders. It wasn't entirely the old man's fault that he couldn't tell a girl from a boy. Librana's hair was too short, her body was not yet developed and the way she acted was that of a boy's. "This wand is rowan, unicorn's hair, thirteen inches, slightly springy... give it a wave, young man... ah, no? Don't worry, we'll find one soon enough."

Perhaps the wand was as impatient as its master. It took Ollivanders four tries to get Librana her chosen wand. "Alder, phoenix feather core, twelve and a half inches, unyielding, of course."

"How much?" Cassiopeia asked as Librana didn't seem anywhere nearer to paying Ollivanders. She slapped down the required amount on the counter and dragged Librana out of the shop, trying to ignore how her eardrums were throbbing painfully from Librana's loud goodbye. "I believe we're done," she said. "let's just go back and forget this ever happened."

Librana grinned. "I won't."

"I will," muttered Cassiopeia.

"Hey, old lady?" Cassiopeia had long ago stopped being bothered by the girl's rudeness and merely grunted her acknowledgement. "Which House do you think I'll be Sorted into?"

Cassiopeia paused, her strides faltering before she picked up speed again. She wasn't so sure herself. Librana's personality was much like Sirius' and less like her father's. Perhaps it was a trait from her mother. Which begged the question, was Librana a pureblood at all? Cassiopeia tolerated half-bloods but she was disgusted by them all the same. She wouldn't be able to stand it if Librana was revealed as a filthy half-blood. Telling who her mother was from sight was impossible as Librana was a carbon copy of her father.

"Well?"

"I'm not sure myself."

Librana fiddled with her cap which was hiding her expression. Cassiopeia had asked and she'd never received a satisfactory answer but she was almost sure that was a nervous habit of Librana's. "Aren't you going to say that all Blacks have seen Sorted into Slytherin?"

"Your Uncle Sirius wasn't in Slytherin."

"Would you hate me if I was Sorted into Gryffindor?"

"...No," said Cassiopeia, grimacing at the mere thought of Librana in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. "As long as you don't let them contaminate you."

Librana grinned. "OK! I'll be completely horrible to those Mudbloods!"

"Your presence is horrible enough," muttered Cassiopeia, but it was with a softened expression that she grabbed a fistful of Floo powder and enunciated the name of her home clearly.

When night fell and Cassiopeia peered into Librana's room to make sure she was asleep—she had snuck out before and since then, Cassiopeia had made it a habit to peer into her room before going to bed—before she retired to her own chambers.

The house was the most silent at night. But soon enough, the house will be silent for the rest of the year. Cassiopeia tried not to let the thought bother her too much.

**oOo**

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**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but Librana.**

Yes, it's mostly Cassiopeia's pov but it'd change in the next few chapters. _Review?_

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**oOo**


	3. Chapter 3

**Fate, Shattered**

**Chapter 2:**  
_The Hogwarts Express_

"Librana, I want you to have this."

Librana looked up when she heard her great-grandaunt addressing her. Despite living with the woman for her whole life, Librana still had a hard time deciphering the old woman's emotions sometimes. Just like now; Librana didn't know whether Aunt Cassiopeia was happy she'd be gone or was a little sad. Librana liked to think that Aunt Cassiopeia was grudgingly fond of her despite how annoying she can be at times.

Librana took the ring in her great-grandaunt's palm, fiddling with it. "What does this do?" The ring was made of pretty silver and an onyx jewel. She felt magic radiating and she assumed it was a magical artifact; Dark or Light magic, she couldn't tell.

"Put it on," suggested Cassiopeia.

Shooting her aunt a dubious look, Librana did as told. Librana was only mildly surprised when the ring fitted her perfectly, she lived in a world of magic after all. "Nothing happened," she said flatly.

Cassiopeia smiled thinly. "Don't take it off, keep it on you."

Librana adjusted the cap resting atop her head. "Sure," she said, smiling despite her confusion. She heaved her trunk, raised her cap to Aunt Cassiopeia and ducked into the fireplace. "Are you sure you don't wanna come?" Librana was a little sad, this would be the first time she'd be away from her aunt for a long time. While it was freeing in a way, it was also terrifying. Abruptly getting teary-eyed and a constricted throat, Librana dropped her trunk and tackled her aunt into a hug, murmuring a muffled goodbye and well-wishes before grabbing a fistful of Floo powder. "Platform 9¾!"

And green flames consumed her, obscuring her aunt from view and spiraling her away.

As was usual, Librana cracked her head against cobbled stone. "Owie..." she moaned, half-expecting her aunt to berate her then help her out before she realized that her aunt hadn't followed. Librana sat there and sighed, forgetting that the Floo network was public and she'd need to move if she didn't intend to be squashed by someone else.

She ended up squashed by someone anyhow.

"OW!" yelled Librana, in even more pain than before. She coughed dust out of her mouth, feeling breasts squashing her again and winced. She had a habit of running into women, didn't she? Fortunately, this person didn't seem to be a pureblood. "Gerroff me!"

"I'm sorry!" The older girl cried and Librana's view was momentarily obscured by pink before someone else chuckled and helped Librana out, placing a hand on her head to shield her brain as Librana ducked out clumsily. "Whew!"

Librana dusted herself, patting her overalls and adjusting her gloves, turning to the woman who'd helped her with a bright grin. "Thank you!"

It took Librana three seconds to realize the family of three were gaping at her. Librana's cap that the woman had held out for her had fallen to the ground again. Uncertainly, Librana crouched and swept her cap off the floor, wondering why they were looking oddly at her. "Well, bye, see ya."

"Sirius?"

Librana stopped at the familiar name. She turned back. "What did you just call me?"

"Your cap..." said the woman in a tremulous voice. "Can you please remove it so I can see...?"

Librana did as suggested, mainly because she wanted to see the woman better. Librana was startled at the similarity this woman had with aunt Cassiopeia; the same rich, wavy dark hair and stormy grey eyes of the Black family. But the man behind her was dressed in Muggle-clothes and he didn't seem to have any aristocratic features.

She only knew of one Black woman who had been disowned for marrying a Muggle: Andromeda Black, now Tonks. Apparently, Sirius' favorite cousin. Librana dusted her cap as the woman came closer, sweeping her bangs from her face, most likely to see her eyes better.

Librana's lips quirked. "Hey, there 'cuz."

Andromeda recoiled, jarred. "You..." She seemed to be having trouble breathing.

"Mum!" said the pink-haired girl, staring at Librana with wide eyes. "So the Prophet wasn't spouting rubbish like usual?"

"I'm in the news?" Librana wondered, brows arched. "Wow. Cool. But I'm going to go now... don't wanna miss the train and stuff." Truthfully, she was starting to get unnerved by the woman's stare of disbelief. She turned and ran before she could be stopped.

"Sorry," said Librana when she ran into someone, hastily tugging the cap over her face and boarding the train. She glanced around before starting down the aisle to her left. Most of the compartment was full, none were relatively empty. Librana wandered down both aisles a few times before one compartment door was pushed open and someone snagged Librana's wrist.

The girl stiffened, turning to face the same pink-haired girl from before. "Wotcher, Black," said Pinky, smiling at Librana though it was a little stiff. "Wanna join me?"

She had nowhere else to go anyway so she nodded and entered the compartment, tripping and would've fell on her face had the pink-haired girl not caught her.

"Wow, I think I finally found someone more careless than I am!"

Librana shot the older girl a wry smile as she adjusted her cap and sat beside the girl. "I'm Nymphadora Tonks, by the way, but call me Tonks. You are?"

"Librana Black," she said, glancing curiously at the girl's hair. "What happened to your hair?"

Nymphadora grinned, running a hand through her oddly colored hair. "I'm a Metamorphmagus!" To prove her point, she morphed her face into one resembling Librana's, prompting a gasp from the young girl. "Isn't it cool?" Librana nodded, her excited movements tilting her cap sideways, revealing her grey eyes for the world to see; Tonks' smile faltered.

Librana's grin faded eventually. "Sorry, did I scare you?"

Tonks blinked. "No," she said eventually. "Just startled. I mean, you really look like Sirius."

_What about my dad, Regulus? Why didn't anyone seem to remember him?_

"You've seen him?"

Tonks nodded. "I remember him vaguely, he seemed very friendly too, can't believe he'd..." She trailed off, clearing her throat awkwardly. "Anyways, Mom got pictures of him so I get to see him there, too." Librana twisted her cap, wondering how she should tell Tonks that she had never even got a picture of her uncle or dad. "I'm sure you'll grow up to be as handsome as he is."

Librana grinned. "Can you get your mom to send me some of his pictures? Along with uncle's pictures. I've never seen them before."

Tonks' smile faltered. "...You've never seen your dad? _Who_ raised you?"

"My great-grandaunt Cassiopeia," replied Librana promptly. "Who did you think raised me?"

"Oh... I though it was grandaunt Walburga, y'know, your paternal grandma. Where's your mom?"

Librana felt the same as she always did whenever the topic of her mother was brought up: emptiness. She was supposed to feel longing, anger or even hate but she could only feel apathy. Librana shrugged halfheartedly. "Never met her," she finally responded. "The old hag didn't know since Dad didn't mention her once. And I look exactly like Dad so I can't possibly tell even if I passed by her in the streets. I hope she's a pureblood witch, though, can you imagine the shame of being a half-blood?"

Tonks winced and it reminded Librana that she was, in fact, talking to a half-blood. Odd. Tonks didn't look much different from Librana; in fact, they shared the same storm grey eyes. Most likely from her mother, Andromeda.

"But you're my cousin, you're different," said Librana, grinning. "You're special, too."

Tonks blinked in surprise. "...Sure. Hey, are you hungry? Mom made me corned beef sandwiches, want some?"

Librana wasn't shy to accept. "Thanks," she said through a mouthful of sandwich. "Wow, it's nice! Aunt Cassiopeia's cooking is rubbish so this is a very nice change of pace for me."

Tonks looked puzzled. "So you've always ate burnt food?"

"Sometimes," said Librana, shrugging. "But we call catering service so I'm still treated with tasty food." Librana looked up, seeing Tonks' gaze on her and grinned. "But your Mom's cooking really wipes the floor with them! I like it!"

Tonks tugged a strand of pink hair, smiling shyly. "I'm sure my Mom will be very happy to hear that."

Librana nodded, her eyes falling to Tonks' tie. "Oh, you've changed," she remarked, eyeing the brown and yellow tie. "...You're in Hufflepuff? I thought Blacks are always Sorted into Slytherin."

"Oh, right," said Tonks, tugging on her tie. "Hufflepuff's OK despite what everyone has to say about my House. And, technically, I'm not a Black. My Mom was disowned so neither of us are daughters of the House of Black."

"But deep inside, you're still half-Black," insisted Librana. "Is it because of your dad?"

Tonks nodded. "Could be. Dad was in Hufflepuff. Really didn't know how he got Mom's interest."

"He must be a cool person for a Mudblood," said Librana, missing how Tonks flinched. "Sorry. But it's what Aunt Cassiopeia taught me."

"'S OK. So, which House do you want to be in?"

"Dunno," said Librana indecisively. "Where are the Hufflepuff dorm?"

"Close to the kitchen, basement. It's very cozy, I think, in comparison to the cold dungeons of the Slytherin alcove."

Librana blinked. "OK. Then I'll join Hufflepuff."

Tonks choked, nearly spewing sandwich bits all over the opposite seat. "Are you kidding me?" she said. "Of all Houses, you chose Hufflepuff?"

"I thought that's your House," said Librana, frowning in confusion. "Why do you sound like you're insulting it?"

"I got used to my House after nearly seven years," answered Tonks, wiping spit from her mouth. "But truthfully? It wouldn't be my first choice. I had been hoping to join Slytherin like Mom but I guess I don't have the cunning to be in it." She paused, glancing down at Librana and added, "I guess you'd either be in Gryffindor or Slytherin. You'd be great in either Houses."

"Thanks, I—"

The compartment door slid open. Both cousins turned to face a bushy-haired girl with rather large front teeth peeking out from her cherry-red lips. She glanced around before looking at the cousins. "Hello. My name is Hermione Granger and I'm looking for a toad."

Librana snorted. "Of all pets you could chose, you took a frog with you? Mudbloods have no taste, do they?"

The Muggle-born frowned. "It's not mine. I'm helping a friend."

"Librana!" said Tonks sternly. She offered the shell-shocked Muggle-born a hesitant smile. "Sorry, he's a little bit of a prick. We didn't see a toad at all. But we could help, what's the toad's name? I could Summon it for you."

"Why're you being so nice?" demanded Librana grumpily, crossing her arms and giving the Mudblood the stink-eye.

Granger seemed to decide that ignoring Tonks' bratty cousin was in her best interest and said, "It's name is Trevor."

Tonks drew her wand. "OK, here I go—_Accio_ Trevor!" Nothing happened. Librana cracked an eye open to look around. She didn't see anything zooming toward them. "Wait, did you hear that?"

The Mudblood frowned, straining her ears before her eyes widened and she ducked as a ball of green shot past her, smacking Tonks in the face. "Ow," muttered the Metamorphmagus as she peeled the croaking animal off her face, wiping slime in the process with a disgruntled expression, and handed it to the Mudblood who thanked her profusely.

"She's a Mudblood. Why did you help?" Librana asked again, sullenly.

"I'm being kind."

"Hufflepuff rubbed off on you," remarked Librana blandly.

Tonks shrugged. "Well, yeah, those Hufflepuffs grew on me like fungi." There was a long silence and Nymphadora shifted her attention out to the scenery outside. Her second cousin didn't seem like he wanted to be speaking soon, most likely still grumpy about being in a Mudblood's presence.

And here she thought the young boy was an OK kid. Her Mom had warned her to watch out for that kid, whether to see he was plotting something or to protect him from bullies. Nymphadora had decided to do both. Not for the Sirius in Azkaban. But for the Sirius that had once whirled her around the living room, laughing and declaring her a princess. He wouldn't have wanted his son to be mistreated, to be left alone to fend for himself.

But if they ended up in different Houses, it'd be difficult. Worse, Nymphadora wasn't even a prefect so she couldn't dock points off students or warn them away from her cousin. She frowned. But Librana—what a girly name, who named him anyway?—had Sirius' blood and his personality seemed similar to his Dad as well, so she assumed that he wouldn't be too easily bullied either—more likely, he'd be the one doing the bullying. He must have steel for a backbone or something.

Still, it would be hard, knowing that no one wanted to be friends with you because your father was a freaking criminal. Nymphadora needed the boy to know that he had someone backing him up. She didn't know how much it'd do for him but having moral support was nice.

"Hey, Librana—?" She stopped talking.

He was asleep. His cap had gone askew again and without the cap to obscure his face, she saw how much he resembled his father: the same high cheekbones, the finely arched brows, the shape and shade of the eyes, the rest of his aristocratic features flowed smoothly to his feminine-looking jaw. Looking at him from this light, he looked very androgynous—much like Nymphadora who had also been mistaken as a girly guy before her body matured.

He was drooling slightly and he mumbled something that sounded like, "I already wiped the slugs off the fan."

She huffed in amusement. Cute, she thought, as she reached out to readjust the cap over his face.

"Rest up," she said, sighing, knowing that the rest of the world wouldn't see what she saw in his innocent face. "You'd need it to face the rest of them."

**oOo**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; Librana, however, is mine.**

Yes, people are mistaking Librana as a boy and thinks he's Sirius Black's son. Can you imagine the drama? XD

Review!

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**oOo**


	4. Chapter 4

**Fate, Shattered**

**Chapter 3:**  
_The Sorting_

Librana yawned, wiping drool off her mouth. She shot Tonks a disgruntled look to let the older girl know that she was still pissed at how the older girl had chosen to woke her up (by clonking her upside the head). Librana rubbed her eyes sleepily, adjusting her cap as she shuffled out of the compartment after her older cousin.

"Leave your trunk, it'd be transported up magically. Doesn't trouble us, thank goodness. Can you imagine the pain of climbing up flights of stairs with your heavy luggage?"

Librana agreed with Tonks. More likely than not, she'd break her neck. She was clumsy enough without anything weighing her down, she had the feeling that Tonks could empathize with her.

It hadn't even been a minute that she thought such when Librana tripped and fell off the train in an ungraceful manner, she heard Tonks landing face-first beside her in the same way. Someone laughed derisively, nudging Librana's foot with theirs and it sent the young Black heir scrambling to her feet, instantly dusting herself. Her cap covered half her face and she briefly twisted it so that she'd be able to catch a glimpse of who had laughed at her. Her cheeks were slightly flushed; damn humiliation, this bastard was going to be getting it from her.

He had silvery eyes and platinum blonde hair: a Malfoy trait.

"You filthy Mudblood, watch where you're going next time," he sneered. "I wouldn't want to dirty my shoes."

"Lay off my cousin, you little prat!" snarled Tonks, springing to her feet. She placed her hands on my shoulder, her grey eyes suddenly fierce. "Come on, Librana, we don't want to waste out precious time with this little git. And for your information, Malfoy, his blood is purer than even yours!"

She was right. The Blacks were the oldest pureblood family in Wizarding Britain. The Malfoys weren't much but didn't her other first cousin once removed married a Malfoy? This brat had to be hers and that Malfoy's. If they were to take their fathers' blood into account only (which was common), Librana's blood would be purer. But the young Black's heart sank at the thought of her mother. She would be severely disappointed and disgusted if her mother turned out to be a Mudblood, or _worse,_ a Muggle. She didn't think she could bear the shame.

"Don't let him get to you," said Tonks as she led Librana away from the train. "Honestly, though, I don't understand—"

"I dunno my Mom's blood status," Librana hissed, her hand in Tonks' tightening to an almost painful grip. "What if I really am—"

"You still have Black blood," insisted Tonks. "You're still special." Lower, under her breath, she muttered, "And I can't believe I'm related to that prat."

"Firs' years'! Firs' yers' this way!"

"Oh yeah," said Tonks, releasing my hand. "First years, traditionally, go on a boat ride with Hagrid the gamekeeper. So you can get a better view of Hogwarts."

Librana grinned, tipping her cap in a mock-salute before she hurried after her peers. Only when Librana had clambered onto a boat, noticed that the first-years were staring at her oddly, that she realized she was the only one who hadn't changed into her school robes—which were probably being sent into the castle as she spoke. Oops. Before she could go back to the train and check for her luggage, the boat started moving.

"Ah!"

"You're that rude little boy," said a very familiar, haughty and annoying voice. That Mudblood who was looking for her toad.

Librana turned to face her, not seeing her face, rather she only saw the girl's torso and lower half. Librana dimly recalled the girl changing even before they were anywhere close to reaching Hogwarts. Mudbloods were so eager to learn magic, to steal their sacred secret that it made Librana's lips curled. She could tolerate Muggles because some of their inventions were awesome but Mudbloods who integrate themselves into their society and corrupt it with their own views? No. Librana couldn't take it. She refused to accept them.

"And you're that filthy Mudblood," Librana returned.

One of the boys gasped. "Mudblood? That's a horrible thing to say—apologize to Hermione, right now!"

Scowling, Librana tipped her hat to study the two boys, noting that one had red hair and freckles all over his face and neck; the other boy had round glasses and green eyes with messy hair—somehow familiar but she couldn't place it. "Secondhand robes," commented Librana. "You'll be a Weasley, huh? That family of blood-traitors."

"That's backward coming from you—you're wearing Muggle clothes—and you didn't even change into our school robes!"

"At least I don't kiss Muggle-ass!" Librana shot back heatedly. "You're a disgrace to the Wizarding World!"

Weasley sprang to his feet. "I'm warning you, you little prick—"

"Sit down, Ron!" said the black-haired boy. "You'll overturn the boat!" He tugged on his friend's sleeve and Weasley reluctantly sat.

Unable to resist goading him, Librana sneered, "All bark no bite, eh?"

"Just one punch, Harry," muttered Weasley. "Just one punch then I'll deal with detention."

"No," insisted his friend Harry. "L-let's all get along—uh, like, which House do you guys want to be Sorted into?"

Librana snorted, her anger diminishing to be replaced by amusement. "Real subtle, you."

"He asked a fair question," the Mudblood said; she was wringing her hands and Librana thought she felt waves of nervousness rolling off her. "I suppose Ravenclaw and Gryffindor aren't too bad. As for Slytherin..."

"It's a nice House," Librana said. "Don't let Gryffindor families cloud your judgement. It's a House for ambitious and clever wizards."

"The House that had turned out the most Dark wizards and witches!" inserted Weasley.

"Just because a few had turned bad, you think the rest are evil, too! Just because you're an idiot doesn't mean the rest of your family are idiots, are they, Weasley? Would you like it if I judge your whole family from your attitude alone?" Librana couldn't help herself, she kicked Weasley. Bloody hell. One more word against her family's House and Mrs. Weasley will be losing one son—with that many lying around, however, Librana doubted the woman would've noticed. "I'm sure you'd make Mummy proud by being Sorted into Gryffindor—house of all blood-traitors and hopeless cases _if_ all of them are like you!"

Librana paused to take a breath, found that she couldn't look at Weasley unless she wished to be sent to Azkaban for murder and forcefully turned herself to face Hermione. "See the sort of guy meant for Gryffindor? You're smart and eager to learn, I can tell you'll be a brilliant witch in Ravenclaw, you'll flourish without people like him to drag you down."

"Really?" asked Ms. Mudblood; she was still wringing her hands nervously. "I mean, why are you advising me? I thought you don't like me?"

"I respect power," Librana said tersely. "so that means I'll be in Slytherin." Realizing that she wasn't exactly answering the girl's question, she added, "And you have potential. Intellect is... hard to come by these days." Librana shot a meaningful look at Weasley.

"I see," said Granger. She had stopped fidgeting and instead, she turned to the remaining boy who had been watching on in silence. "And what about you?"

"I'm not sure," said the green-eyed boy uneasily. He turned, his torso unmistakably turned to Librana who arched an unseen brow beneath her cap. "You... what's your name again?"

"Librana Black. You?"

"Harry Potter." There was a slight pause where Weasley gasped, but Librana didn't react to the name. He defeated the Dark Lord. Viola. It's history. Moving on to the future, everyone. "Have we met?" Librana tilted her head to the side and he must've sensed her confusion because he said, "Sorry. I didn't—well, you smell familiar—"

Librana bristled, taking in a few lungful of breaths. Did Potter boy just say she _stunk_? Oh, someone was going to lose his balls. Once they were on steady ground, Librana will—

Mudblood burst out laughing. Librana stared at her in total confusion. "O-oh, Librana"—said Black heir twitched at being addressed so casually by a Mudblood—"Harry wasn't implying that you're rank! He's trying to say that your natural scent is familiar to him!"

"Oh," said Librana, feeling her lips twitch in amusement at her own assumptions. She pulled her arm to her face, sniffing. "I don't smell anything."

"Personally, we don't realize it." Granger sniffed the air. "But your scent is really noticeable. You smell like a collection of flowers. Are your parents' florists?"

Weasley snorted. But Librana ignored him, struggling to control her temper by gritting her teeth. "No. My... aunt likes flowers so she keep them around the house and force me to tend to them." Librana rubbed the back of her neck. She really didn't notice she gave off the scent of flowers. But now that they mention it, Librana sniffed harder, and could just barely detect a hint of soothing lavender, sweet honeysuckle and the bitter scent of dandelions.

"So she's a florist?"

Librana disliked people prying about her personal business but she managed to bit out, "She doesn't work. We're very rich. About a dozen vaults in Gringotts to sustain us. Unlike Weasley here. Poor as dirt."

"Enough about my family!" roared Weasley. "Just because your family does dirty work to get all that money doesn't mean every other family does the same! At least my father works a good and honest job! What about your dad? Rotting in Azkaban, isn't he?"

Granger gasped and Potter's jaw seemed to have dropped. "_What?_"

Librana lost it. She sprang to her feet, rocking the boat. "Don't you _dare_ mention Sirius!"

"Stop!" yelled Potter, grabbing Librana's wrist and pulling her down. "You'll overturn the boat and—thank God!—we're here!" Potter couldn't have been more obvious about wanting to reach firm ground; he and Granger were the first off the boat and Librana followed their lead, silently snarling at Weasley who knew to linger back. The upper half of her face was covered but the lower half of her face was enough to convey her anger and disdain.

Angrily, Librana shoved Malfoy who'd stopped short in front of Potter (most likely to strike a 'friendly' conversation) away. "Hey!" the prat yelled. Two large students beside him stepped forward, cracking their knuckles menacingly but before they could do anything, the double doors to the castle flew open and Librana caught long, maroon robes sweeping across the stone ground.

"Do we have a problem here?" The voice was stern but undoubtedly a woman's voice. "No? Good. My name is Professor McGonagall, the Head of Gryffindor House. Now, the Sorting will begin in a few minutes. There are four Houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each House has their fair share of contributing to the heroes hailed today."

Librana snorted the same time Weasley did.

"Student," said Professor McGonagall sternly; she was looking at Librana whose skin was prickling with the piercing gaze. "Why are you not in your school robes?" And Librana was the only one not wearing her school robes.

She gritted her teeth. "I... forgot. It was too late, by the time I realized it, I was already on the boat."

"Never repeat this mistake, as this is your first time, I'll let you off easy, young man." Librana was about to correct the teacher about her gender—she knew she was tomboyish but did she really look like a boy? Had to be the cap covering her face and the short hair. Before she could speak however, Librana felt her clothes rustling and when she looked down, she was already fitted in her school robes. She grabbed her cloak and pulled it aside, revealing pants instead of the school's trademark black skirt for girls. "And take off that ridiculous cap, Mr—?"

"Black," Librana muttered, rolling her eyes when McGonagall inhaled sharply. "And Professor, this is—" _A boy's uniform_, she finished silently when the teacher continued speaking, not allowing her a chance to finish her sentence.

"Well, wait one moment," said McGonagall. Librana looked up, tipping her cap to the side enough to see the Professor shooting her an unreadable look before leaving, the double doors closing behind her.

"Black?" said someone incredulously. Librana turned to see the Malfoy brat elbowing his way to the front again. "No way. You're the kid my Mom saw the other day in Diagon Alley?"

"I'll remember you nudging me like dirt," Librana hissed, still angry about earlier's event. "You'll regret messing with me and Nymphadora."

Malfoy's face paled slightly. "I—I didn't know who you were, cousin. Your existence had been hidden for years and years. And you were wearing Muggle clothes and hanging with that blood-traitor's daughter, so I thought—"

"I don't care what you think. But lay-off Nymphadora and if you bad-mouth her..." Librana left that threat hanging. Malfoy gulped, nodding but before he could say anything, the doors reopened.

"In," said Professor McGonagall tersely. Being in the front, Librana had to move first. And no one else seemed close to volunteering to be the first to enter. She snorted. And some of them wished to be in Gryffindor. Librana swept in after McGonagall, arms crossed. She was tempted to step on the teacher's robes just to see her trip but she decided not to, unless she wanted to experience a gruesome death.

Someone's hand reached out to brush Librana's, slowing her strides. Librana grinned slightly at Nymphadora, she took the older girl's hand and squeezed it briefly before continuing after McGonagall, coming to a stop beside Potter and—much to her disgust—Granger with Weasley behind Potter.

"When I call your names, please step forward and sit on this stool. The Sorting Hat will Sort you. Is that clear? Good. Now... Abbott, Hannah!"

Librana adjusted her cap, her breath leaving her in a low whoosh when the name "Boot, Terry!" was called. He became the first Ravenclaw. Librana glanced sideways where Granger had been conversing with one of the Ravenclaws. Ugh. She'd be next. No doubt.

"B—" Professor McGonagall's falter was so slight it was almost unnoticeable but Librana had always been perceptive. "Black, Librana!"

Her feet felt like lead but Librana managed to gather her wits and forced herself forward. Her skin prickled, goosebumps rising as she felt everyone looking at her. Her uncle Sirius was in Azkaban and people who never heard of Regulus automatically assumed her to be his 'son'. Kids, watch out for that murderer's bastard son!

Librana snorted softly to herself.

"Mr. Black," said Professor McGonagall, her voice glacial. "Please remove your"—she sounded close to saying 'yourself from this Hall' and it made Librana sneer at her poor control of emotions—"cap, the Hat needs to touch your head to be able to Sort you."

Librana removed her cap, swiping her sweaty fringe that plastered to her forehead, looking into McGonagall's eyes briefly before she turned and sat on the stool, facing the rest of Hogwarts before the Hat fell over her eyes. It was uncomfortable and the hairs at the back of her neck stood.

_'Ah...'_ whispered a voice in the back of her mind. Librana stiffened. '_Oh, fear not, young one, you will grow up into a mature beauty and no one would ever mistake you as a boy!'_ Librana blushed slightly at the compliment. Well, with her family genes, she wouldn't have to worry about turning out to look like a ogre. '_Hm... hm... oh, very difficult. Thirsty to prove yourself, proud of your family, certainly cunning enough to be in Slytherin.'_

_'So what are we waiting for?'_ Librana thought, annoyed.

_'Yet, I sense here a never-ending supply of courage and loyalty. Gryffindor would do you good.'_ Librana hissed in protest. _'Watch. Even Minerva—one of the fairest people I know—is wary of you, yet, I see no evil—turn and look around, Librana, no one here is on your side, sans Dumbledore who's keeping an open mind.'_ Librana twisted in her seat, startling McGonagall but Librana tipped the Sorting Hat back enough to look at every teacher present. Their thoughts collided with her mind—whispers of wariness, hatred, bitterness and anger—and she recoiled because it had felt like a punch to her face.

_'What on earth was that?'_

_'I am the best Legilimens in the world,'_ offered the Sorting Hat and it sounded undeniably smug. _'and I merely lent you some of my powers. Their suspicions would diminish if you're in Gryffindor and they wouldn't actively try to sabotage you—it is a great House y'know? Your uncle Sirius did terrible things, yes, but he was great nevertheless.'_

_'I hate you,'_ Librana thought. She had been very certain in joining Slytherin but—

_'It's still your choice. Hurry now, you're taking the longest of time. If you're not Sorted soon, Minerva might think this an attempt for you to hoodwink me into something.'_

Librana snorted._ 'Do you even have to ask?'_

_'Alas, such courage to brave their suspicions. Onto the path of greatness, you go_—SLYTHERIN!"

The table to the leftmost corner cheered, hissing in delight as Librana stood, removing the Hat and handing it over to McGonagall. Librana looked up into her would-be professor's brown eyes, surprised that she could read the emotion in her eyes: a knot of wistfulness, pity, anger and worry; _he looks so much like his father._

Librana tipped her head to the side and grinned. "Pleased to meet you, Professor!"

**oOo**


	5. Chapter 5

**Fate, Shattered**

**Chapter 4:**  
_Life At Hogwarts_

"Hey, cousin, good morning!"

Librana looked up, tilting her flat hat (she had a large selection of hats and this hat happened to be more suitable for her school attire) in a brief salute before she turned her attention back to her toast. Draco slid into the seat next to her, which annoyed her greatly. But not as much as Parkinson who sidled up next to her, all but clinging onto her arm.

With an awkward smile, Librana removed her arm from hugging vicinity.

"Good morning, Librana!" squealed Pansy Parkinson. Apparently, not one of the Slytherins though it odd that her name was so girlish. Librana had woken up early, sneaking into the laundry room with directions and help from the Hogwarts' ghost to change her uniforms. If she was to be mistaken as a boy, she might as well live with it. Besides, their reaction when they find out would be awesome to witness.

"Morning," muttered the disgruntled Black heir. She wanted to rush over to Nymphadora who had just entered and was smiling at her. But she couldn't. Not with her Head of House, Snape, looming over her. She didn't know why he had her name on his hit-list the moment they met, but she could always get the radiation of hate and anger whenever they were in the same room.

Librana had found that she couldn't penetrate his mind's defenses at all despite the power the Sorting Hat had lent her—whether it meant it to be permanent or not, she had no idea.

Librana turned, seeing Hermione Granger settling herself behind her, and offered the Ravenclaw first-year a small smile which Hermione returned.

"Hello, Librana," she said.

"Go away, you filthy Mudblood!" said Pansy, snarling at Hermione. "Don't you _know_ who you're talking to?"

"Come on, Hermione," said an Indian-girl, tugging on Hermione's arm. She shot the Slytherins a reproachful look. "Don't talk to them, look away, quickly."

"I know Parkinson isn't actually friendly," said Hermione lightly. "But Librana is actually pleasant." She slanted me a wry glance. "So as long as you don't say Mudblood."

Pansy's face flushed redder in anger when Librana chuckled. Before she could rebuke however, a shadow fell over them and Librana abruptly found her vision obscured with black robes. She raised her gaze—well, she was about to anyway—but a hand clamped onto her head, forcing her view to spiral downward and she found herself looking at the man's gleaming shoes. Wow. This guy must've been a neat freak. Who spent so much time polishing their shoes till they shine? She thought men were filthy and messy!

"Professor Snape!" squealed Parkinson.

Librana could not help her smart mouth. "Would you mind keeping your hands to yourself, Professor?"

The hand disappeared, snatching her hat with it. "Hey!" she protested, head snapping up as she tried to swap the hat from her teacher. "What gives?"

"Everyone dresses accordingly here, Mr. Black." Librana shoved her fringe and bangs from her eyes, trying in vain to keep them from her face; she frowned up at her professor. His lips curled. "No exceptions, not even for bratty heirs of noble pureblood houses."

"Give me back my hat," Librana muttered angrily but he swept away, taking her precious hat with her. Librana swatted thin air, feeling vulnerable without something to hide her face. "Ugh. What's with that guy?"

"Dunno," said Pansy, frowning, apparently under the impression Librana was talking to her. "But he'd come around. The Blacks are one of the noblest and purest family in all of Britain." She batted short lashes at Librana; an attractive gesture ruined by her not-so-attractive face.

Librana sneered. "Not one of them. The purest and noblest of all of them. The rest are rather inferior, I'm afraid." Her eyes narrowed, her tone turning condescending. "That includes yours." Grabbing the last toast on her plate, Librana left her seat, grumpy as she stormed out of the Great Hall.

"Wotcher, Librana!"

Blinking, the young Black heir turned to face her cousin. "Hey, Nymphadora."

The Metamorphmagus' smile slid off her face. "Don't call me that."

Librana's lips twitched in reply. "I think it's a very beautiful name. Your Mom was creative."

"How did you know my Mom named me?" Tonks asked, arching a brow.

"Girls are creative," said Librana, inclining her head.

"I saw what Snape did," said Tonks before Librana could leave. "Do you wanna know why he's out to get you even though you haven't caused any trouble?" Phrasing it that way, Librana was curious. The Black heir blew hair out of her eyes as she turned back to her second cousin. Tonks smirked when she saw the long-suffering look on her cousin's face. "Knew you'd want to know," she said, slinging an arm around the young boy. "Well, it's because of your Dad."

"What did he do?" She thought Regulus Black had been in Slytherin. And didn't Slytherins get along spectacularly?

"Your dad was a bully, along with his best friends, James Potter, this Lupin dude and another Petty-something."

"Oh," said Librana softly. Aunt Cassiopeia said Regulus Black was a very polite and pleasant young man. Well, the old hag didn't know Regulus on a personal level anyway so she supposed the mistake was excusable. "So he's going to bully me in revenge?"

Tonks nodded. "But what's worse, your Dad nearly set a werewolf on Snape." Librana's jaw dropped in disbelief but Tonks nodded enthusiastically. "I'm serious! He nearly got killed so Snape will be out for your head too." Tonks patted Librana's back. "You watch yourself, OK?"

Librana nodded. "Slytherin's all about self-preservation. I won't be getting myself killed."

Tonks winked at her, giving her back a hard slap that nearly sent the smaller student tumbling face-first into the cobbled stone. "See ya at lunch, 'cuz!"

Librana twisted a lock of her hair. "See ya."

**oOo**

"Whoa," said Librana, laughing slightly as she caught the small crossbreed professor from tumbling off his perch on stacks of books. She offered Professor Flitwick a charming smile. "All right, Professor?"

The small professor looked startled. "Y-yes," he squeaked. "Why don't you return to your seat, Mr. Black?"

"No thank you?" Librana teased, knowing that the Head of Ravenclaw House would be easier to push around.

"Well, yes, where are my manners? Thank you, Mr. Black. Why don't you sit down, now?" If Librana didn't know any better, she would've thought he wanted her to be as far as possible. Librana's grin slowly slid off her face. She didn't understand why everyone was so narrow-minded. Just because her family was Dark didn't mean she was too. Heck, Librana had yet to choose her allegiance!

Librana turned to see students from both Ravenclaw and Slytherin filling in. Pansy and Draco were both looking hopefully at her, waving at her to sit beside them at the Slytherin side. Librana was not looking forward to sitting next to Pansy which meant being touchy-feely with her. She didn't want to buddy up with Draco either, even though they were cousins. Librana honestly preferred Tonks.

Librana saw, however, a certain someone who wouldn't mind her presence too much and proceeded toward Granger, sitting down beside the Muggle-born. "Wotcher, Granger," she said, repeating Tonks' odd way of greeting others, with a grin on her face.

Hermione smiled awkwardly at Librana. "Hey." She didn't look quite as enthusiastic as before and it weirded Librana out. Class started and the hairs at the back of Librana's neck stood on end. Librana and Hermione were situated in the middle row so they were people behind them but she thought they'd be paying more attention to Professor Flitwick. Frowning in confusion, Librana turned to see a couple of Ravenclaws blatantly glaring at her.

What was so interesting about her head? Sure, Librana knew her hair was glossy, beautiful and totally shone under the sun. But did that give them a reason to keep staring?

Librana tugged on her fringe, wishing she could have her hat back, but figured she'd be strong enough to tough it out.

The next lesson she had was History of Magic (Ravenclaws were due for Herbology) and Librana chose a seat next to Blaise Zabini. The dark-skinned boy, she found, was not cheery at all and Librana ended up spending the rest of the lesson snoring into her arms. She'd just take notes from Hermione's notes; no doubt the whole of Ravenclaw would be jotting down whatever Professor Binns was saying.

A few days passed. The class Librana had secretly been looking forward to was Defense Against The Dark Arts but it turned out to be a severe disappointment. Professor Quirrell was scared of his shadow it seemed, he kept looking behind his back. There was, however, also something special about the teacher. Librana always felt a shadow of unease falling over her shoulder whenever she made the briefest of eye contact with this teacher. Hard to believe he was a dangerous man though, he stuttered and was about as clumsy as Librana!

Transfiguration was easily Librana's best subject. Within a few seconds, Librana had managed to turn her match into a needle. Librana got ten points to Slytherin for this but she wasn't sure McGonagall was all that happy to be giving it to Librana.

"Is there something you need, Mr. Black?"

Librana blinked, looking around; she didn't even realize she had lingered behind, now she was the only student left. She schooled her face into one of polite indifference. "No. I was just..." She looked McGonagall in the eye. "...wondering why no one seemed to appreciate my company."

Something flashed in her professor's eyes. "Hate," she said. "runs very deeply in humans' veins, Mr. Black. I... afraid I am no different, I will, however—Mr. Black?"

But Librana had already left.

**oOo**

When Friday came, Librana had decided she and Harry were soul siblings.

Professor Snape had made a very dramatic entrance, sweeping in and giving a speech before he started taking register. Tonks was right; Snape had something against Librana's family—not her whole family or herself, but against her Dad (even though she had no idea what was so bad Regulus did to Snape other than trying to murder him) to be precise—he read her name Black as if it was poison itself.

He paused, however, when he said Harry Potter's name.

"Ah, yes, Harry Potter, our famous celebrity."

Librana glanced at her cousin (whom she could not escape in this class) who sat beside her when he sniggered. "Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Librana's eyebrows climbed to her hairline as she traded confused glances with Draco. Harry Potter answered with a negative. Librana was just unrolling her parchment and refolding it again for the lack of anything to do when Snape barked her name.

"Black!" Librana looked up in surprise. "Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

The only thing Librana could think of was how it rhymed with bazaar—even the spelling was similar. Y'know. Like the sales-market place. "...In a bazaar?"

Snape's lips curled. "Wrong!"

"Surely we could buy it from _somewhere_," Librana pressed on, unwilling to accept that she was wrong and she was sorely wishing to prove Snape wrong. "Isn't bazaar somewhere we shop for stuff?"

"If you were to buy something to cure poison, Black, it would be in the _apothecary_," snapped Snape. He looked like he was battling himself, whether or not he should take points off Slytherin for Librana's cheek but eventually, he refrained from doing such. With great difficulty, he turned away.

"Last try to the both of you—what is the difference between wolfsbane and monkshood?"

Harry met Librana's eyes for a moment but he looked baffled. Librana knew time was running out but she wouldn't be giving up without a try. "The spelling?"

Snape's lips thinned in displeasure and Librana raised her hand. "Hey, you asked for the difference and I gave an answer." The class broke into scattered giggles and sniggers, which did nothing to soothe Snape's temper.

"I'm warning you, Black, one more word of cheek and you'd _regret_ opening that mouth of yours."

Librana clamped her mouth shut solemnly, nodding, watching her teacher with wide grey eyes.

Satisfied, Snape turned back to the rest of the watching students. "For your information, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion known as Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons." His black eyes flitted briefly over to Librana who was still staring up at him with wide eyes. "We can also buy it from somewhere, so Mr. Black is _partially_ right. And there is no difference between monkshood and wolfsbane—keep your mouth shut, Mr. Black—they are the same plant." Snape pinned Librana with a final glare before he glared at the whole class as if they'd done something to personally offend him. "Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

Librana found pulling out their parchments and dabbing their quills to be rather pointless as they only had to copy down those simple facts before they had to shove them back into their bags.

Librana found out, rather quickly, that brewing potion simply wasn't her thing. She sucked. Very badly. In fact, Librana couldn't even stand the fumes wafting up her hair and making it oily; the sweaty heat from the fire beneath their cauldron causing her to sweat profusely, plastering her shirt and robes to her body.

Librana wheezed, feeling as if she'd ran a marathon around the country, as she wiped sweat from her forehead. She still failed to crush the snake's fang and her palms were starting to bleed. Great. She was defeated by a stupid fang. She dropped the rock (whatever Snape preferred to call it), scowling (though most would call it pouting); this was it. She was giving up. She didn't care if Professor Snape had a litter of kittens over this, but she wasn't going to brew this stupid potion anymore. If she needed something to cure her boils, she'd go straight to Madam Pomfrey.

She huffed, slouching in her seat, glaring down at the snake fang. What a complete _waste_ of time.

"Hey." Grumpily, Librana looked up, glancing to her side to see Harry Potter addressing her. "You can't crush the snake's fang, can you?" Librana's scowl was enough of an answer. He hesitated before he crossed over to her, probably not noticing how his Weasley friend was gaping at him and how waves of enmity was rolling off Draco. "Here, I'll help you."

Librana's temper slowly cooled as Harry crushed the snake's fang for her. Well, he was a boy so she supposed he should be able to. "Hey, Black?"

"Hm?"

"How does it feel?" Librana glanced at him in confusion and he elaborated: "To have a criminal as a Dad."

Librana contemplated that question. Well... Regulus was a Death Eater—so he _was_ a criminal. He must've killed and tortured Muggles and Mudbloods. Was she suppose to be angry? He went and did a mission, knowing full well he'd die, leaving Librana with a sorry excuse of a caretaker (Aunt Cassiopeia was very grumpy and treated her like a personal butler if anything). "Well, the novelty wears off once you'd gotten used to it," she said, shrugging. "I dunno. I don't remember him enough to form an opinion."

"I see," said Harry. "So, do you live near a Muggle suburban?"

"Aunt Cassiopeia has a lot of safe houses," Librana admitted. "When I was young, we move around a lot and I usually didn't bother learning the places we were living in. So, yeah, it might be possible."

"Did you know you could make a wish with dandelions?"

Librana blinked. Now that sounded familiar. Wishing with a dandelion? Before she could respond however, a loud hissing sound filled the dungeon. Librana leaned back, peered past Harry's body to gape at the cloud of acid green wafting from Neville Longbottom's cauldron. Well, what was left of his cauldron anyhow. It had somehow turned into a twisted blob and whatever poison he was brewing had seeped all over the dungeon floor. Harry scrambled back to his seat and jumped onto his stool, like everyone else did.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?" Longbottom looked like he wanted to cry; boils started popping all over his nose and Librana thought he looked pathetic, though she also sympathized. "Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape snapped at Longbottom's partner, whirling on Weasley and Harry who had been working beside the pair of screwed-ups.

"You—Potter—why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you?"

"He was helping me crush my snake's fang," Librana interjected, frowning at her professor. "Blame Weasley. He was beside them."

Snape's lips curled into a vicious sneer. "I see." His eyes lingered on Harry, contempt visible, before he turned to Weasley. "That's a point you've lost for Gryffindor, Weasley."

This was so unfair to Ron that he opened his mouth to argue but Harry kicked him behind their cauldron. "Don't push it," he murmured. "He's letting us off easy if half the rumors I've heard about him were true."

Fortunately, before Weasley could lose his temper and chuck his cauldron in Snape's face (this Librana would've paid to see), class ended when the bell sounded.

"Cheer up," Librana heard Harry say to Ron. "We'll earn the points back. 'Sides, you want to visit Hagrid's with me?"

"Oi, cuz," said Draco Malfoy, grabbing Librana's elbow and dragging her back to the dungeons. "You shouldn't interact with filth like Weasley and Potter—"

"That's right," exclaimed Librana, slamming her first on her open palm. "Harry's Mom is a Mudblood!"

Draco nodded, pleased that his cousin was getting his point. "Else, he would've been better company."

Librana smiled, glancing at her cousin. "He's still extraordinary, he vanquished the Dark Lord, y'know, regardless of this blood status. I'm sure many pureblood family will overlook this and get their daughters married to him."

Draco snorted, crossing his arms. "So? It's none of our business, it's not like the Malfoys or Blacks have a daughter to their name to be married off to Potter. 'Sides," He lowered his voice, his silver eyes darting around to make sure no one was eavesdropping and he stepped closer to his second cousin to speak. "having Potter as family means declaring yourself as an enemy to the Dark Lord."

"Voldemort?" Draco flinched and Librana laughed. "You're scared of the name? And here I thought your whole family's loyal to him!"

"W-we are," spluttered Draco, he still looked nervous. "But we have to be subtle too!"

Librana blinked, tilting her head to the side. "I heard that your father has quite the powerful position among the Ministry. Yet, he'd did nothing to aid the Dark Lord, right? Those truly loyal to the Dark Lord are now in Azkaban—just like a few of my family. If you ask me, your father would not return to the Dark Lord until he's certain of his power to defeat the Light, am I correct?" Draco flinched. Librana smirked at his discomfort. "Lord Voldemort would not be happy."

Someone squeaked in fear, prompting Librana and Draco to turn to see who had made such a noise. "Is it a rat?" inquired Draco, his nose wrinkled in disgust.

Librana squinted and saw the shadow of a man. "Oh... you're..." The man's scent wafted up her nose, telling her his identity before he stepped out of the shadows. "Professor Quirrell? What are you doing down in the dungeons?"

Professor Quirrell offered the pair of second cousins a feeble smile. "Just had a little chat with Professor Snape, that's all. Good evening." And he left.

As Librana wandered back to the dungeons with Draco going on and on about Quidditch, she frowned, recalling that when Professor Quirrell had spoke, he had not stuttered like he usually did.

Huh. Odd.

**oOo**


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything you recognize.**

**:: :: **

**:: ::**

**Fate, Shattered**

**:: ::**

**Chapter 5:**  
_Midnight Wanderings_

"Are you any good at flying, cousin?"

Librana glanced, once more, at the notice board. She shrugged. "My dad was a Seeker so maybe I'll inherit that talent," she finally said. "He was on the team, wasn't he?"

Draco blinked. "I thought your Dad was a Beater?"

Librana furrowed her brows. "Huh? Really? Guess that's another detail Aunt Cassiopeia messed up. She said he was a Seeker for the Quidditch team." Speaking of her aunt, Librana had not seen a single letter for her. There was a stab of sadness at the thought but she refused to let her down. She'd just write a letter. Maybe she'd multiply the letter and pelt it at Aunt Cassiopeia just to annoy her? Yeah, she'd do that.

"What's with that grin?" asked Draco. "Are you planning on doing something?"

Librana grinned wickedly. "I'm not telling!" she said and zoomed out of the common room, taking the quickest way to the Owlery. She hadn't even open the door to the tower when she ran smack-dab into someone. "OW!"

"Wotcher, cousin!"

Librana's annoyance faded when she noticed the familiar head of pink hair. "Wotcher, Nymphie," she returned, smirking at the look of annoyance crossing her cousin's face. "What're you doing?"

"Good timing," said Tonks, she handed me the package. "I think we should open it here. I don't want that nosy git Malfoy to be looking at what's private between our family."

"He shares the same blood as we do," Librana returned dryly but she took the package and crouched, placing it on the ground, slowly unwrapping the parcel. "So, what's this?"

"Your dad's pictures," answered Tonks, tearing the wrapper into pieces, losing patience with how carefully Librana was unwrapping it. "And your uncle's too, but it's scarce since my Mom and your Uncle aren't close at all."

"Who's Uncle's favorite cousin?" Librana asked.

Tonks chewed her lip in thought. So that was why she had chapped lips, Librana thought; just like how Librana liked fiddling with her cap, Tonks had a habit of chewing her lips when she was thinking about something. "I dunno. Your dad was close to my mom but I think your uncle's closer to Draco's mum or that insane Lestrange woman." Tonks shuddered. "Met her once, when I was a kid wandering about in Diagon Alley. She promised to kill me, y'know? My mum chased her away, hard to imagine they were once best friends and sisters—my mom was her maid of honor, or something."

"Bellatrix Lestrange, right?" Librana asked. She had only heard her Aunt Cassiopeia mention her name but never met her nor had she seen the woman's pictures. "It must've been painful for both of them," remarked Librana thoughtfully. "for best friends and sisters to turn against one another for their own beliefs."

"Bellatrix was insane," said Tonks, snorting. "I was her niece and she was ready to Avada Kedavra me."

Librana hummed noncommittally, uncovering the box and peering in. Andromeda had arranged everything properly and there seemed to be a few personal possessions in there too. Librana shuffled through the pictures, noting that there were a lot of Uncle Sirius' pictures. There was one taken when he was a child; a happy grin lighting up his face, a hand slung over a smaller boy's shoulders: Regulus, Librana's dad.

Librana shuffled through a few more pictures, pausing every few seconds to look at her Dad's youthful face with Tonks making a few comments. "That's Professor Slughorn's famed club. Your Dad and Uncle were part of it. Mom was too, come to think of it."

"Uh-huh. Hey, can I keep this? I just want this one, you can have the rest back." It was probably taken during when Sirius was fifteen and Regulus was fourteen, it was the oldest picture of them she could find with them standing together for a picture. The rest were taken with friends.

Tonks arched a brow. "Mom said you can keep them all. She doesn't want it anymore." Tonks hesitated before placing a hand on my shoulder. "She... she viewed Sirius' betrayal as the ultimate one and she says it hurts to have so many reminders of him. I mean, he killed Muggles and even a wizard wasn't spared. He—" She stopped talking, her fingers coming up to brush Librana's cheek. "Hey, you don't have to cry..."

"'m not cryin'," Librana mumbled but she didn't push Tonks away when the Metamorphmagus lent her a shoulder to cry on.

**oOo**

"Did something happen?"

Tonks was right, Librana thought, Draco was a nosy git. But he was still family so Librana supposed she was obligated to be nice. "What makes you say so?" Librana asked as they followed the flow of the Slytherin first-years toward where she could already see Madam Hooch waiting for her students.

Librana didn't know why the school would arrange for Gryffindor and Slytherin to have classes together. If they thought it would strengthen their bond, the school board was wrong—close contact with one another was only worsening their relationship. Maybe Dumbledore wanted to see which House had better self-control? Either Gryffindor snapped first and start killing Slytherin or (and this was more likely) the other way around.

"You looked like you've been crying," said Draco and he was smirking when he said this. "What happened? You're such a girl, Librana—even your name's girlish, cousin."

Librana scowled at Draco. "Crying doesn't show weakness," she retorted snappishly. "it shows that I'm only human. And what happened is none of your business." Irritated beyond belief that attitude, Librana abandoned Draco, quickening her pace and elbowing the Slytherins out of her way, being the first to arrive in front of Madam Hooch.

The back of her neck was burning, she was sweaty and her cheeks had to be flushed from being so long under the sun. She crossed her arms with a huff. "Can we get this over with, now?"

"You're not teaching this lesson, Mr. Black," responded Madam Hooch; her voice was as cold as the North Pole. Which was not unusual. Nearly every teacher was like this.

Librana noted sourly that the woman seemed to brighten up when she saw the Gryffindors striding over to them, she didn't even seem to notice that the Gryffs and Snakes were trying to kill one another with their glares.

"Oh," she muttered. "how hopeless."

"What's hopeless?" Librana turned to see Harry beside her. "And the Slytherins are on the other side."

"The teachers're hopeless, that's what," said Librana angrily, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring defiantly at everyone who looked oddly her way. "And I'm not moving. There's no rule dictating that I can't stand on this patch of field."

"Now," said Madam Hooch, her voice booming across the field. Librana made a face at her which she pointedly ignore. "extend your hand, hovering above your broom and order it up."

"Up!"

Librana's fingers closed around the broom handle before it could smack her in the face. She glanced around and noticed that Draco and Harry had been able to do it. Longbottom's broom simply rolled to the side. Pansy Parkinson actually edged away from her broom when it made to rise. Blaise Zabini's broom only managed half-way up. Weasley's broom, Librana noted with a smirk, smacked him in the nose. As she didn't hear any sickening cracks, she assumed it had not been broken.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle—three—two—"

The whistle hadn't even sounded when the crowd gasped and squealed. Librana's hair whipped in the wind from the abrupt movement from her side, slapping her in the eyes and she hissed in pain when her fringe entered her eyes. She dropped her broomstick, rubbing her eyes furiously before glancing up, her vision adjusting again just in time to see Neville Longbottom spinning in air.

"Whoa," said Librana, stepping back, a breath of laughter escaping her lips when she saw Longbottom thrown around like a ragdoll. Librana had always loved it when people were in pain. Aunt Cassiopeia said that sadism and insanity ran in their Black blood.

In a series of unfortunate movements, Librana had stepped on her broomstick. Her left foot meant to steady her accidentally kicked the broom off the ground. "Oh shit," she muttered as her body fell backward, the back of her head narrowly missing hitting the stick as she, too, rose into air.

"Get down here, Black!" Madam Hooch roared.

"I will if I could!" Librana yelled back, hands tightening on the stick till her grip was almost painful, as she scrambled into a position that would not ensure certain death.

Screaming his head off, Neville zoomed over her, forcing her to duck and sending her broom spiraling as well. Clinging onto her broom, Librana let her instincts guide her, tilting the broom sharply to the left to intercept Neville. With a cry, he fell—seeing no other choice, Librana tipped her broom downward and just managed to zoom under to catch him, her broom jerking downward with the added weight.

Jerkily, they descended—the old broom could not take the weight of one fat boy and a girl whose bones was about as heavy as the boy's fat—but the broom had reached the end of its tether. They dropped like stones. Judging from Neville's cry of pain, he had not tried to land on his back like Librana did (who had only fell on her back not because of her knowledge, but because she was too shocked to do anything else).

There was a flurry of robes and someone extended a hand to help Librana up. She was mildly surprised to see Harry, she didn't ask him why he bothered to help though, as she was too busy dusting herself off dirt and grass. "Ugh," she muttered in disgust. "My robes are ruined. I stunk of grass and dirt—how do I know if animals peed and crapped there or not? I need a bath. Oh, Longbottom, you will—"

"Black!"

Librana looked up, irritated as she dusted her robes. Her mind was screaming and chanting _dirt, dirt, dirt!_ which Librana could not absolutely stand—she hated being dirty and sweaty so she hated Herbology and Potions. The boys in her dorm could finish bathing in five minutes but Librana would take at least twenty minutes to scrub her whole body and wash her delicate hair.

Madam Hooch looked grudgingly impressed. "Not bad of a flier," she grumbled. "Take fifteen points to your House for saving Longbottom."

Librana adjusted her robes. "I heard that my father was a good Quidditch player," she called, waggling her brows just to taunt the woman. "Skills must've came from him, eh?"

Madam Hooch slanted her a stern look. "I suppose," she said stiffly, placing a hand on Neville's shoulder. "Come, Longbottom, let's get that wrist of yours checked." To the rest of the students, she roared threats of death should she see anyone flying without her supervision.

"Real friendly, that woman," sneered Librana, taking off her robes. Who flies with long robes anyway? Sweating buckets, Librana rolled up her sleeves and loosened her tie. Pansy squealed, and much to Librana's discomfort, she was not the only one. When Librana's gaze flitted across Gryffindor girls as well, they blushed, giggled and averted their eyes.

Something was wrong. Librana glanced at Draco who was scowling, displeased. "What's wrong with them?" she asked, jerking her head at the pack of blushing girls.

"I don't know," snapped Draco, his mood taking an abrupt turn. Librana thought he had been exceedingly happy to see Neville getting hurt but now, he looked surly. Librana was about to ask what his problem was when his eyes lit up and he darted forward. "Look!" he said, snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

"It's a Remembrall," remarked Librana flatly. "What stupid thing? It's very useful." Draco glared scathingly at her and realization clicked in. "_Oh_... so you're being insulting. I get it."

"Give it back!"

Librana turned, arching a brow when she saw Harry extending a hand toward Draco, silently demanding the Remembrall be placed in his hand.

Draco sneered. "No. I should leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. Let's see... perhaps the Astronomy Tower?" He cackled, stepping on his broom and zoomed away. "Come on, Potter. You want to help Longbottom? Then come up here!"

Harry grabbed his broom, ignoring his friends' cries, and shot upward. Harry, like Librana, seemed to have inherited their respective fathers' talent for flying. Despite never riding a broom once in his life, Harry knew how to turn and swerve away from obstacles.

Librana let out a low whistle as Draco landed next to her, his face flushed with excitement, silver eyes flashing with glee when Professor McGonagall called Potter's name and led him away.

"He's going to be expelled," said Draco with glee.

Librana snorted. "No way," she said. "Sorry to burst your bubble, cousin, but he's the Harry Potter. No sane headmaster would expel the hero of the Wizarding World."

Draco shrugged. "Yeah, well, Dumbledore's not very sane."

"Still, he's going to get punished," commented Blaise Zabini—who had been unashamedly eavesdropping—thoughtfully. "Wonder what his punishment will be."

Librana swept her discarded robes off the ground, dusting it before throwing it over her shoulder. "Come on," she said. "Lesson's over."

**oOo**

"Where're you going?"

Librana smirked. "Going to see what's Potter punishment. Coming, 'cuz?"

"I _am_ curious," ventured Draco, springing to his feet and trailing after Librana who had discarded her robes on the seat she'd just vacated. Librana ignored the stares she was receiving for her different (or lack thereof) attire and how she, a Slytherin, was approaching the Gryffindor table with quick strides.

Librana poked Harry in the back, nearly sending him sprawling face-first into his plate. He turned to scowl at the cousins who smirk back at him.

"Enjoying your last meal, Potter?" Draco taunted.

"You're a lot braver now you're back on the ground and you've got your friend with you," retorted Harry coolly but his words were directed more at Draco than it was to Librana.

"I'd take you on any time on my own," Draco snapped, unwilling to lose in any sort of competition when it came to Harry. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only—no contact."

Harry was too late in packing away his look of astonishment. "What's the matter?" Librana inquired lightly, her lips still curled into a lazy smirk. "Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," said Ron, wheeling around to face the Slytherins, having came to his friend's rescue. "I'm his second. Who's yours?"

"You see any other Slytherins before you?" Librana returned, rudely shoving two Hufflepuffs away to seat on their bench. "Tonight, midnight, meet you in the trophy room." She waggled her brows. "Don't chicken out now."

"Oh, neither of you will be going." Librana blinked, turning her head to see a disgruntled Tonks. She glanced to her right, seeing a fellow first-year, Hannah Abbott who squeaked, blushed and nervously put distance between them. "I'll tell the teachers," Tonks threatened.

"Stay out of this, filthy blood," growled Draco.

Tonks didn't back down and for that, Librana gave her older cousin credit. "I'm older than you, _brat_. Show some respect. And filthy blood or not, I'm better than you."

Draco flushed, glanced at Librana who shrugged (not wanting to choose between two cousins), didn't find the support he needed and decided to back down. He shot Harry, Weasley and Tonks a nasty once-over before departing for the Slytherin table.

"Good one," drawled Librana. "Nice to see that you have a backbone."

Tonks scowled at Librana. "Don't think I'll let you off the hook."

"I didn't insult you."

"Mom told me to watch over you, Librana," said Tonks seriously, having the feeling that her words were going in one ear and floating out the other ear of her cousin's. Librana didn't even try to look as if he was listening. Her young cousin twisted in his seat, sliding smoothly into his seat and started picking the fried shrimps off her plate. She batted his hand away but he was too quick and had managed to stuff his face with his stolen treats. "Next year, try out for the Seeker position."

Librana blinked, smiling. "Sure. So, tell me, how's Quidditch played?"

**oOo**

"Oh... so we're not going?"

Draco shook his head, apparently very much satisfied with himself. "Nope, let those idiots go. Filch'll catch them."

With a heavy sigh carrying all her disappointment in one breath, Librana cast the Leg-Locking Jinx at the closest target—Goyle yelped as he fell face-first on the cold dungeon ground. "So learning this in record-day was a waste of time then," she said.

Draco's eyes lit up in awe. "Wow! You can cast it non-verbally?"

"It's normal for our family," said Librana. "The Dark Arts come naturally to us." She inhaled, exhaling as she ran her forefinger over her wand, feeling it thrumming with her magical energy. "And I happen to have a very strong affinity for it."

Draco looked impressed. "What's your wand core?"

Librana frowned. "Phoenix feather core."

"Awesome!" said Crabbe. "Mine's dragon heartstring. Goyle's too."

Draco was scowling as he drew his own wand. "Unicorn hair. Pathetic. I'm going to pester my father to get a better wandmaker than Ollivander so I'd have one custom-made."

"You'd be rich enough, no?" Librana snorted. But it was with a stab of sadness and stony silence that she departed for her dorm. She shouldn't let it affect her; she had her whole life to get use to the idea that she hadn't a dad whom she'd be able to run to when people bullied her, or to comfort her after a certain failure, or to patch up a scab, or to brag about her achievements to everyone else to hear.

It was one of the reasons why she minded Draco's company. She was insanely jealous of him and sometimes, during breakfast where he'd brag incessantly of the sweets he'd gotten from home, from his mother, she'd feel like tearing his letter to shreds or gouging his eyes out with a spoon (the shape of the eyeball would fit, wouldn't it?).

Librana was just laying out schoolbooks needed for tomorrow's lesson (best be prepared) and was rummaging around for a clean pair of pants when she realized that she didn't have such a thing.

"What's wrong, Black?" inquired one of her dorm-mates, Theodore Nott. "I'm about to turn off the lights, so you better hurry."

"Don't tell me what to do," Librana bit back. She searched more carefully.

Sighing impatiently, Blaise Zabini who happened to be her dorm-mate also, demanded, "What're you looking for?" He was a slow-sleeper and usually needed to roll around in bed before he'd be able to fall asleep so he needed all the head-start he could get.

Crabbe and Goyle were already snoring away. Draco was blinking languidly, he'd also fall asleep soon enough.

"Nothing," said Librana shortly, but instead of changing, she turned and strode out of the dorm, ignoring Blaise Zabini's cry of '_Where are you going, Black? It's way past curfew! Are you mental?_' and proceeded to leave her common room. From her backpocket, she pulled her favorite cap and jammed it onto her head, lowering it to cover her face. Just in case there was some magic to detect fingerprints, Librana pulled on her leather gloves and proceeded to crept silently out of the dungeons.

The castle was dark and Librana (who, fortunately, was very light and quick on her feet) was very close to giving up. The only thought that kept her going through the creepy castle halls was the thought of being clean. She would itch all over if she wore dirty, unwashed clothes to class.

The laundry room was on the fourth floor, if she remembered correctly. She wasn't sure, the castle looked so different at night. For the first time since she set foot on Hogwarts grounds, Librana felt a flicker of fear. Aunt Cassiopeia had said this place was the safest place in the world, but, how many times had she gotten facts right?

Librana placed her back against the wall, slowly edging into the next hallway until she ran smack-dab into someone. "Ow!" she hissed, adjusting her cap, feeling that she had a very bad habit of running into people.

"Librana!" cried a familiar voice.

"Shh!" hissed Librana, placing a finger to her lips, looking at Hermione Granger with pleading eyes. "Not so loud or we'd be found!" Fear forgotten, Librana snapped her fingers and grinned. "Hey, that rhymes!"

"What're you doing here?" demanded Hermione, her arms crossed and looking very severe.

"I could ask you the same question," Librana shot back. "I was heading to the laundry room to steal—ahem, let me rephrase—get clean clothes for tomorrow's wear."

Hermione's cheeks were oddly red but under Librana's heavy scrutiny, she sighed and admitted, "I can't get into the Ravenclaw tower."

"You forgot the password?"

"You don't need a password to enter the dorms," said Hermione haughtily. "You need to answer a question, if you're unable to, you'd be locked out until someone is able to answer. I've been trying for nearly an hour before I came down to find Professor Flitwick. D'you know where his quarters are?"

Librana glanced out the window where the crescent moon was shining in the sky. "It's already midnight," she said. "What were you doing before?"

Hermione huffed. "I was studying."

"So soon?"

"I like reading," said Hermione shortly. "Shall we get going?"

"We?" echoed Librana incredulously. "There's no we! There's only me and you and I'm going to the laundry room!"

"I'll accompany you there, please?" Hermione cast nervous looks around their surroundings. "I'm scared," she admitted, her cheeks tinting pink. "I swear, the suits of armor can move, I always feel like someone's watching me."

"Fine," growled Librana, her eyes softening when she saw Hermione's face. Once they'd stepped out of the shadows and into the next hallway (Hermione was leading them to the laundry room as she knew the upper-floors better), Librana noticed that Hermione really did look disheveled, as if she'd been running from a phantom danger. Librana didn't know what was so bravery-inspiring about herself, she was a Slytherin and if there was danger, Librana was sure to run and save herself first.

"Here we are," said Hermione, pushing the door open, glancing warily around.

"Thanks," said Librana, darting in and making a bee-line for the fresh clothes. Librana didn't know who washed their clothes for them but she thought whoever it was had done a good job; she buried her nose in the robes she'd picked out and inhaled the flowery scent. "Oh, this is good. Aunt Cassiopeia was never this good at softening our clothes."

"Librana?" called Hermione nervously. "The sensation of being watched is back again. Can we go to Professor Flitwick's office now, please?"

Librana nodded, folding the robes, shirt and pants in record time and gently placed it in her handy rucksack, shouldering it before scurrying out of the laundry room.

"OK, let's go—whoa!" Librana yelped, leaping back with Hermione when she saw two shadows moving toward them. The figures crossed into the moonlit hall, revealing their shocked faces and Librana heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, it's you two."

Harry and Ron looked even more disheveled than Hermione, both were panting harshly. "Why didn't you show up?"

Librana shrugged at Harry's query. "It was Draco's idea to get you all into trouble. What're you running from?" Then recalling Draco's words about tipping Filch off, she paled. "It's Filch, isn't it?"

Ron nodded but a loud meow from somewhere behind the group of four. "Mrs. Norris!" hissed Hermione, eyes wide. "Come on!" Together, the quadruplet tore down the hallway.

It was the worst time for Librana's clumsy nature to kick in but it kicked in anyway; with a yell, Librana tumbled into a suit of armor, causing a chain reaction; Librana's ears were ringing from the loud clanging of metal against metal as the suits of armor continued to fall.

"Librana, come on!" Harry was there, helping her to her feet and pulling her arm; Hermione and Ron were bickering up ahead.

"Why did we stop?" Librana managed to wheeze out, slumping against Harry for support.

"The door's locked!" moaned Ron. "We're doomed!"

"No, we're not," snapped Hermione, snatching Harry's wand from his hand and tapping the lock. "Alohomora!"

"He's coming!"

Librana shoved the trio into the room before ducking in, kicking the door close. She grinned weakly, shooting the door a smug smile, imagining Filch trying to decipher what his stupid cat was saying. "That was a close call, eh?" She got no response. Something growled and Librana was suddenly alerted to the stench in the room. "Ew," she said, turning around. "Is this the garbage dump—oh."

Ron made a choked, whimpering sound. Harry kept his eyes on the three-headed dog which was stirring and starting to notice their appearance; his fingers fumbled with the knob of the door before he threw it open, grabbing Ron and Librana, who snagged Hermione's sleeve, and hauled them all out. Librana didn't protest; between Filch and death, she'd take Filch and detention.

Librana slammed the door shut on the three-headed dog; the four of them ran a short ways before collapsing onto the ground. Librana would not have sat there considering the amount of dust and bacteria but she was too tired to care about hygiene now.

"What," said Hermione. "on earth was that?"

"A Cerberus native to Greece," Librana answered.

"Yeah, why is it here?" Ron breathed.

"Did you see what it's sitting on?" Hermione shot back.

"I was preoccupied with its three heads, actually," said Harry, his voice tinged with sarcasm. "What're you doing out of bed, Hermione? You were the last person we'd expect to be breaking curfew."

Hermione bristled, standing. "As a matter of fact, I shall be returning to my dorm."

"You're unable to get in," Librana reminded her. "Weren't you begging me to accompany you to Professor Flitwick's?"

Hermione huffed. "I know the answer to the question now. It's a Cerberus. _Three heads from below the earth of Greece_. Unbelievable, I thought it had asked, _heads from grease_." Librana snorted and Hermione allowed herself a small smile in the Slytherin's direction. "Now, if you'll excuse me before we get killed or worse, expelled." And she marched off.

"Mental, that one," said Ron.

Librana nodded. "She needs to straighten out her priorities." She glanced at the boys. "Still want to duel?"

"No thank you," said Harry. "We had enough excitement for a day."

Librana couldn't agree even more.

**oOo**

* * *

**About the pairings; **_so, if Librana were to be paired with anyone, who would you want it to be? Slash is fine too._

**:: _review_ ::**


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything.**

**:: :: **

**:: ::**

**Fate, Shattered**

**:: :: ::**

**Chapter 6:**  
_Trolls and Girls - Can't See The Difference_

"Potter's got something."

Librana blinked at the statement, then she turned in her seat, eyes following the pair of owls that were carrying something between them. "Wanna take a look?" Librana asked, excited, when she saw Ron and Harry spiriting the parcel out of the Great Hall. She looked at Hermione who sat with her back facing Librana who had already turned in her seat to face her. She flinched, hesitating, shooting Librana a mournful look but—despite not knowing it—Draco saved her by getting out of his seat, apparently under the impression Librana had been asking him.

She shrugged, sliding out of her seat and running after him.

"What have you got there, Harry?" She asked, slapping his back with more force than necessary. Draco didn't wait for Harry's answer, instead of being polite, he snatched the parcel from Harry's hand and felt it.

His face twisted in jealousy. "That's a broomstick," he stated. "You'll get it when I report you, first-years are not allowed broomsticks, Potter."

"It's not just any broomstick," said Ron viciously, deciding to rub it in the Slytherins' faces. "it's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grinned at Harry. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

Librana, whose Aunt Cassiopeia had absolutely no interest in flying sans general information, found that she couldn't interject as she knew nothing.

"What would you know about it, Weasley you couldn't afford half the handle." Fortunately, Draco was as quick-witted as Librana was. She supposed having a snarky retort ready whenever was a trait passed on by the Black family. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up, twig by twig."

Librana snorted.

"Not arguing, I hope?"

The Black heir turned to see Professor Flitwick. He was so tiny she hadn't noticed him earlier. "No, sir," she said, smiling thinly. "My cousin and I were just wondering if having a broomstick is legal for a first-year," she ventured. "or is Harry's a special case?"

Professor Flitwick nodded enthusiastically, he beamed at Harry. "I heard about you being inducted into the Quidditch team, good for you, Potter! The model's a Nimbus Two Thousand, yes? Your father would've been proud, he was a great Quidditch player himself!"

Harry smiled feebly, but he was gauging Librana's face. True to his prediction, he didn't keep his mouth shut for long. "Hey, Professor?"

"Yes, Mr. Black?"

Librana's smile had an edge to it. "Was my father a good Quidditch player, too?"

Professor Flitwick hesitated. "Yes. Yes, Mr. Black was... an excellent Quidditch player."

Librana rubbed her nose. "He's pathetic," she spat. "He can't even bring himself to speak my father's name. Is he that scary?"

"He's in Azkaban," Weasley remarked. "Most people sent to Azkaban are there for being scary _and_ dangerous."

Librana's dad had been in Azkaban before? Interesting. Librana wondered if her mother was currently rotting in there.

Draco scowled. "Come on, Librana, let's not waste our time with people like them."

But Librana lingered, she crossed her arms and stared at Harry with a quirked lip. "Did you know that Quidditch is a talent passed down from father to son in your family?" Harry shook his head, prompting Librana to roll her eyes. "It's in your blood. Come on, I'll show you. You can go back, Dray." Librana led both boys to the trophy room which was remarkably empty sans the three of them. "See? It's a list of players and the medals they've got."

"James Potter," murmured Harry, glancing intently at the glass case. "He's a Chaser." He glanced around. "Oh, look, your dad's a Beater."

"Really?" wondered Librana. She glanced at the nameplate beside James Potter's: Sirius Black. Oh. Her uncle was a Beater too? Librana figured it was because her family had a thing about hurting people and both her uncle and dad decided to try out for the Beater position because they wanted to bash other people's head in. Librana wondered if she'd ever have the strength to bash people's brains around as well. "Sounds cool," she finally said. "Maybe I'd try out for the Beater position, too."

"You can't even crush a snake's fang without Harry's help," Ron interjected.

Librana scowled at him. "Puberty will hit and I'll grow stronger," she said firmly.

"Dream on," muttered Ron, glancing meaningfully at Librana's thin arms.

**oOo**

"Back again, Potter?" Librana crouched beside Harry by the glass case, she tapped it to get his attention as he didn't even acknowledge her presence. "Where's your sidekick, Weasley?"

"I was looking around," said Ron's voice sourly from behind Librana as he came to crouch beside Harry. "What are you doing here?"

"Probably for the same reason Potter keeps coming back," Librana answered. "It makes you feel a connection of kinship with your dad, doesn't it?"

Harry blinked, finally removing his eyes from the glass case. That's right, he thought, Librana grew up without a dad too. Harry had grown up with the thought that his dad died in a car-crash and even though entering the Wizarding World had not changed the fact that he was dead, he had died a hero's death and Harry was proud of him. What of Librana's father? The young Slytherin boy's dad was a criminal. If Ron was right, Sirius Black was one of the Darkest wizard alive, second only to Voldemort. Harry couldn't even begin to imagine how Librana must've felt.

"So you feel the same?"

Librana shrugged. "Sure," she said.

"I'm surprised to see you two here," a haughty voice remarked. Librana turned to see Hermione and she offered the bushy-haired girl an impish grin. However, her grin slid away when she noticed that Hermione was pointedly ignoring her and was only fixing her eyes on Harry and Ron. "I didn't know you were interested in older students' achievements."

"Librana showed us here," Ron retorted. "Wants to show us his dad's achievements."

"And my dad's too," added Harry lightly.

"Why are you here, Hermione?" Librana asked. But Hermione didn't answer; for a brief moment, her brown eyes flickered to Librana but shifted away as quickly. "Hello? Did you notice me standing here?"

Hermione bit her lip, said nothing to Librana and snapped, "Don't you dare destroy anything."

"What's her problem?" demanded Ron, not bothering to keep his volume low even though Hermione had yet to leave the trophy room. "We didn't bother her and she comes lecturing us. Honestly, no wonder no one wants to be friends with her!" Librana heard Hermione's breath hitch, she couldn't be sure, but she thought Hermione could've been sobbing. "Even the Ravenclaws isolate her!"

"Ron," hissed Harry, apparently sensing Hermione's growing distress. Librana turned just in time to see Hermione running from the trophy room, her hand over her eyes.

"She'd trip," remarked Librana idly, standing, brushing dust as she did so. "Come on, let's go get her."

"Did you do something to her?" asked Ron loudly.

Librana tilted her head to the side. "No," she said. "I've always been polite with her, I do not know why she is suddenly ignoring me."

"Don't you see the problem?" Harry asked. "The Ravenclaws isolate her because she's befriending you."

"That's a stupid reason to turn your back against a housemate," said Librana, frowning, squinting against the sunlight as they passed by the windows. She glanced out at the courtyard, and blinked. "Look, flowers. I wasn't aware Hogwarts had a garden." Forgetting about the glaring sun, Librana climbed out the window. An easy feat as there were no barrier. She crouched and reached out to pluck her favorite flowers. "Did you know that when you wish upon a dandelion and blow on it, your wish will come true?" she asked.

"Yeah, I mention that to you before, didn't I?"

Librana quirked a brow in Harry's direction. "I forgot. Speaking of which," she said slowly, frowning. "how did you know about wishing on dandelions?"

"Librana, I've been meaning to ask, have we ever met—" Harry's quiet question was drowned out by Ron's loud, "Well, what're you wishing for?"

"Hm. I wish for the students of different Houses—especially Gryffindor and Slytherin—to coexist peacefully and that we'd all be friends." Librana twisted the dandelion shoot as she blew, effectively ridding the dandelion off its fluff. "There, now it'd come true."

Harry arched a brow. "How long do you reckon it'd take for your wish to come true?"

Librana smiled. "Isn't it coming true, now?"

**oOo**

"The decorations are amazing!"

"Wait till you taste the food," Theodore said, piling jacket potatoes on Librana's plate (who had absolutely no idea why the rest of the House insisted on being so nice to her).

"D'you think we can keep bats as pets?" Librana asked instead, nibbling on her food. She preferred bats to owls. They looked so much cooler. Speaking of which, Librana had yet to write to her aunt. Every time she settled down with a blank piece of paper and quill, all thoughts flew out of her head. She couldn't possibly write about how Hogwarts looked like, her aunt who'd been here already surely knew how it looked.

Blaise shrugged in response. "Ask the Headmaster."

Librana glanced at the High Table where the Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, was conversing with Professor McGonagall. His piercing blue eyes flickered in her direction, as if knowing that she was watching him, before returning his attention to Professor McGonagall. Librana was about to turn back to her food, but she noticed that Hermione—who usually sat behind her—was not present at the Ravenclaw Table.

Oops. Hadn't they meant to go look for Hermione after she ran away from the trophy room crying? But the scent and chatter from the Great Hall had eventually made the trio cave and enter the Great Hall first. Seeing the impressive decorations had stunned Librana enough for her Slytherin friends to spirit her back to their table and all thoughts about finding Hermione had flew out then. Librana felt a little guilty. To be completely sure Hermione was not back, Librana looked up and down the Ravenclaw Table, not seeing a flash of familiar bushy brown hair at all.

"Librana, what're you looking at?"

Librana turned back, offering Pansy a dimpled smile. "Nah, just wondering where Granger is."

"Not that Mudblood?" huffed Pansy, crossing her arms and pouting; her cheeks were red though. Librana edged away; if the girl had a flu, she did not want to catch it, she hated getting sick.

"Yeah, her."

"I heard that she's been crying in the girls' bathroom since afternoon," inserted Daphne Greengrass with a cruel sneer marring her pretty face.

"How pathetic," scoffed Millicent Bulstrode.

"Bet she's realized she's got no friends," added Tracey Davis with a snort.

Librana blinked; she hadn't even realized the Slytherin girls had joined them at their seat. Blaise and Theodore sat on each side of Librana, Draco was sitting with Pansy, opposite of Librana. Crabbe and Goyle were beside him, stuffing themselves silly. Cropped up beside a disgruntled Pansy were Millicent, Daphne and Tracey. They beamed at Librana who supposed it was only polite to smile back.

"Librana, I had this baked especially for you," said Daphne, smiling shyly as she handed the Black heir a beautifully wrapped box. "You do like sweets, don't you?"

Librana grinned. "Yeah, how did you know? Thanks!" If possible, Daphne's face went even redder—girls her age were so weird, Librana hoped she didn't end up like them someday: weird, giggly and blushing. Librana was just unwrapping her gift when the doors to the Great Hall burst open and Professor Quirrell came running in, terror evident on his face as he rushed toward Dumbledore.

"Troll—in the dungeons—!" He screamed shrilly, silencing the rest of the Hall effectively. "Just thought you ought to know..." His eyes rolled back and he collapsed on the ground in a dead faint.

There was uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence. "Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

The Slytherins, pale-faced, sprang to their feet, obediently following their prefects. But Librana was not with them. She chanced a glance backward, saw that the professors were engaging in heated conversation, saw that Hermione was not present among the evacuating Ravenclaws and hurried after the Gryffindors, ignoring the Slytherin girls' cries to come back.

"Don't worry!" Librana flung back at them to deter them from following her. The more people, the more the danger.

Harry's messy hair of black and Ron's vivid red hair were easy to spot. With a lunge, Librana managed to grab onto their shoulders, stopping them in track.

"Hermione!" gasped Librana the moment they turned around, bewildered. "She doesn't know about the troll!"

All color drained from the boys' faces. "Come on!" said Harry, leading the way, pushing his way out of the jostling crowd. "We've got to find her!"

"The girls' bathroom, Daphne said she heard her," Librana answered, slightly out of breath as she hurried after the two boys. "We've got to hurry. I've got a bad feeling about this."

**oOo**

Her eyes stung, very badly. But Hermione supposed this was normal as she'd been crying for hours, wallowing in her self-misery. Ron Weasley was right; she had no friends. Librana Black could've been her friend but he was in stinking Slytherin. Her Ravenclaw housemates would not put up with that; they despised associating themselves with the despicable Slytherins. They had already begun to isolate her when she defended Librana, claiming that the Black heir was a nice boy.

Hermione knew, of course—who didn't know?—that Librana was the son of serial killer, Sirius Black, who was now serving a life-sentence in Azkaban. But the rest of her House, for all their intelligence and wisdom, did not seem to realize that father and son were completely different people, and thus, Librana might not end up the same way?

Hermione rubbed her eyes. She'd ignored the Black heir ever since the row with her dorm-mates. It didn't make much of a difference; she'd now turned away her only possible-friend and she had no one else to back her up.

Hermione was severely disappointed; she'd hoped that coming to Hogwarts would change things, that she'd have actual friends but... apparently not. Even her own housemates thought she was a show-off know-it-all!

Sniffling, Hermione stood, unlocking the door to her stall and walked out. She bent over the sink, intent on washing her face of all evidence that she'd been crying. She would not let others know how weak she'd been! She would continue to be ridiculed and she had to put an end to it!

Hermione hiccuped, rubbed her nose and turned. The Halloween feast had to be starting now. If she didn't want to miss out on the delightful treats, she'd better head back now.

The smell hit her before the shadow came into view.

Hermione inhaled sharply. "Eugh!" She exclaimed, clapping both hands over her nose and mouth. What was that horrid smell? Not three seconds had she finished her thought did the ground shake, dust falling from the ceiling. Fear crept into Hermione's heart, what was that groaning sound?

She'd better leave. She took a step toward the door before it crumbled along with a part of the wall.

It was a horrible sight, the creature that'd stepped in. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite grey; its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell was incredible and it made Hermione see stars. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were longer than its body.

"Dear Rowena," she whimpered, staggering back; tears of fear rising to her eyes, blurring her vision. She was going to die. A sarcastic part of her mind whispered, _fantastic!_

The troll grunted, looked around and started swinging its club, knocking the sinks of the wall as it swung.

Hermione couldn't help it; she screamed.

"Oi, pea-brain!"

"Get away from her!"

Hermione sobbed, peering past the troll's large body to see three very familiar boys. Ron and Harry were easily noticeable with their blazing red tie and badge. What surprised Hermione was seeing Librana there—chucking a fallen rubble at the troll. Ron and Harry were Gryffindors, so sure, they'd help her—students from the most chivalrous House and all. But she thought Slytherin was all about self-preservation so it came as a shock that Librana would be trying to help her: a Muggle-born, or as Pansy Parkinson had so aptly put it, a Mudblood.

"Distract it!" Harry yelled.

"Know any spells?" Librana inquired, his tone one of_ i'm-not-going-to-panic_. Perspiration beaded from his forehead.

"Scatter!" Ron cried; Librana and he dived out of the way as the troll, hearing the boys' voices, slammed its club down, cracking the porcelain tiles and causing the ground to shake.

Librana tripped and fell, unable to regain his footing on the uneven ground. Typical bad luck. Seeing this, Harry grabbed the nearest broken pipe and hurled it at the troll. "Get away from my friend!" The hit didn't seem to have an effect but his yell had drawn the troll's attention, giving enough time for the Slytherin boy to run for Hermione who was watching everything with mute horror.

"Come on, run, run!" Librana yelled at Hermione, trying to pull her towards the door, but she couldn't move, she was still flat against the wall, her mouth open with terror. The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started towards Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape.

Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: he took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry's wand had still been in his hand when he'd jumped—it went straight up the troll's nostrils and even though it wasn't her wand, Librana gagged in disgust.

"What're you waiting for?" Librana demanded, grabbing Hermione's arms and pulling her hard. Her knees were trembling so bad, they locked and she fell forward. Librana thought she'd passed out. Seeing no other choice, Librana allowed her to wrap her arms around her shoulders and hooked her hands under the girl's knees, piggybacking her which was something Librana had never ever done for anyone. Librana was actually surprised that Hermione was so light. Which was fortunate. Had the Muggle-born been any heavier, Librana would not have been able to dive out of the way when the troll's club came swinging their way.

"Do something!" Librana yelled at Ron.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Ron roared, crying out the first spell that came to mind; his wand was pointed at the troll's club. The spell worked: the club flew out of the troll's hand and when it swung its hand again to bash Harry's head in, it grunted in confusion when it found its club missing.

"Drop it!" Librana offered helpfully, making a bee-line for the exit.

Ron did as told; the club clonked on the troll's head and Librana got the pleasure of watching its eyes rolling into the back of its head, passing out in a dead faint. The smell was not dead, however.

"I need an hour's bath after this," said Librana, face twisted in disgust. "I stink, I'm covered from head to toe in dust—can we go now? I think Hermione's in shock and she needs Madam Pomfrey's expert hand."

Harry was washing his wand under the remaining toilet sink. "Hold on a sec," he said, turning off the tap before joining them. He wiped his wand dry on his robes.

Librana made a face. "I suggest you throw that wand away. It's disgusting and I'll be reminded of troll boogers."

"I like this wand too much to throw it away," said Harry. He glanced curiously at Hermione who was strangely silent. "Are you OK, Hermione?"

Speaking of which, Hermione's fingers were digging painfully into Librana's shoulders. She wondered if she'd be seeing crescent-shaped marks. It took Librana a few seconds to realize Hermione was crying and shaking. "Are you that scared? We're much more scary!" Librana joked, realized that no one found it funny and pouted. "Hey, the thing's dead now—"

"Unconscious," interjected Harry.

"I was trying to make her feel better," Librana hissed back, narrowing her eyes at Harry.

"Oh."

"N-no," said Hermione, sniffling and Librana found that she was smiling despite the onslaught of tears. "I- I was just crying in relief. Thanks for helping me—you guys coming back for me really means a lot. And Librana?"

"Hm?"

"S-sorry for ignoring you so rudely before. I didn't think you'd come save me from the troll." Hermione smiled shyly at Librana, who, despite her confusion at the sudden change of heart, smiled back.

"What about us?" Ron muttered moodily.

"Do you think everyone made it out safely?" Harry quickly changed the subject before an argument could spark between Ron and Hermione.

Librana grinned. "What're you talking about? We're the only ones brave enough to run after a troll—!"

"Or stupid enough."

Librana came to an abrupt halt, eyes going wide; Hermione let out a startled squeak; Harry groaned slightly when he realized who it was; Ron paled.

"Professor Snape!"

The Head of Slytherin House looked less-than-pleased. "In," he snapped. After hesitating, Librana stepped in after Professor Snape, blinking, taken aback by every teacher gathered there—oh, so this was the staff room, she had no idea. She heard Ron and Harry inhaling sharply; she cast a nervous glance at the door which had snapped shut. "Well? Explain."

Librana knelt, allowing Hermione down; Professor Flitwick squeaked in worry when he saw how pale his student was, he hurried over to her, grabbing a chair and pushing her into the seat before she could pass out. Librana shot Professor Flitwick a nasty look in retaliation to the suspicious look thrown her way.

"You know what?" Librana sniffed, crossing her arms over her chest, mildly offended. "My favorite teacher's got to be Madam Pomfrey. At least she _never_ asks questions."

"Mr. Black," said Professor Dumbledore calmly; Librana found herself on edge when she saw his twinkling eyes. "We are not accusing you or your friends of anything. We are merely curious as to what happened. Imagine our surprise when we found the troll unconscious and no one else there."

"How did you get here before us?" queried Harry curiously.

"That's our secret," responded Professor Dumbledore. "Well?" he prompted.

"T-they were looking for me," Hermione finally spoke, face flushed when Librana glanced at her. "I... well, I thought I could handle the troll myself—"

"That's not true," Librana interjected. "She was crying in the bathroom because..." She trailed off, glancing at Harry and Ron, wondering if she should continue. If she did, Ron would be in big trouble.

With a sigh, Ron stepped forward, looking sheepish. "I might have made a few rude remarks to her and all... but they're the truth! Hermione's got no friends—"

Harry stepped on Ron's foot to shut him up. "—got no friends in her House!" he added hastily. "We're her friends from _other_ Houses!

"Is that true, Ms. Granger?" inquired Professor Flitwick, frowning.

Face completely red now, she nodded, looking down at her hands folded in her lap.

"Why is that?" Professor McGonagall asked gently.

Hermione shot Librana a fleeting glanced and mumbled her answer.

"Sorry?"

"They didn't like me befriending a Slytherin. I insisted that Librana is... very nice and I guess we had a sort-of row and they didn't speak to me, ever since."

Librana blinked, surprised. Oooh, she felt bad. Hermione didn't have friends in her own House because of her. "You should've lied to them," she offered. "I don't mind."

Snape muttered something sarcastic that sounded like, "Oh, _wonderful_."

Professor Flitwick was squeaking angrily. "I will speak to them of this! Students from other Houses are encouraged to befriend one another! Hogwarts didn't build itself, you know!" He looked meaningfully at Ron, Harry and Librana; his eyes softening even more when they fell on the young Slytherin. "I thank all of you for saving a student of mine—ten points to each of you!"

"Thanks," said Ron, grinning.

"Now that this is all resolved," said Professor Dumbledore, clapping. "Why don't you all return to your dormitories?"

Ron's stomach growled. Librana added, "I'm still hungry and Hermione never even got to the feast."

Dumbledore smiled. "I'm sure the elves still have left-overs. Why don't we head to the Great Hall? Would anyone be willing to volunteer—"

"I will!" squeaked Professor Flitwick. "Come now, then I'll escort each of you to your dormitories."

Librana, after all that excitement, was ravenous. Harry, Ron and Hermione were no exceptions. Sure, it was a little awkward when Professor Flitwick was watching them eat intently. Librana nudged Harry. "Wanna have an eating contest?" she asked, smirking.

"No!" Professor Flitwick said before Harry could agree—the grin spreading on his face told Librana that he thought that was a fun idea. "I will not have a repeat of those events years ago!"

Ron looked up, curious as were the others. "What happened?"

Professor Flitwick looked pointedly at Harry and Librana. "Your respective fathers had an eating contest too—James Potter nearly choked to death!"

"When did that happen?"

"In their sixth year," said Professor Flitwick, shaking his head and Librana could see his fond smile. "Also the first time Lily kissed James—yes, the eating contest bought a beneficial start to their relationship—thought he was going to die, she did, his face was blue by the time we rushed him to Madam Pomfrey."

Librana and Harry glanced at one another, bursting out laughing at the same time.

"Professor? Could you tell us more about our dads?"

Professor Flitwick checked his watch. "Well, I see no problem with that. Now, let's see... Oh, yes, I remember this one time..."

**oOo**

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**Answer to Guest Reviews:**

**manami uchiha: **Yep, many people voted for Harry/Librana so it'd be HarryxLibrana - Library. lol

**FieryPhoenix: **Anything to get Ginny away from Harry. I don't like Hinny so Library it is. XD

**Retzl:** Eh, if there's popular demand, why not Sirana and Libradora?

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**Thanks for reading, remember to review**

**xxx**


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